#and it's trashy but I enjoy some trashiness from time to time (but why do I have to explain that to you)

[littlexdeaths]

blondes do have more fun - e.m.

y2k eddie munson x girly reader

warnings: robin and reader get so drunk, reader is too clumsy for her own good

opposites attract masterlist

a/n: another edit and repost of this y2k series. this was the second blurb i ever wrote for them and it was heavily inspired by that one scene in 10 things i hate about you, iykyk. enjoy babes 💕

word count: 1.2k

It was an impulse decision.

So of course he would be surprised.

If you were being honest, you were a little scared to see Eddie’s reaction. Which was why you asked Nancy to tag along with you to the hair salon. Knowing she would give you her honest opinion either way.

It took over two hours to get your locks to the bleach blonde perfection you desired. Keeping your eyes off of the mirror during the entire process due to your nerves. So when the stylist finally spun your chair around, you were genuinely shocked as you fell in love upon meeting your reflection.

You had never done much with your hair over the years, besides the occasional haircut. But you were itching to try out something new. Finding yourself inspired by your latest obsession, Legally Blonde.

You had dragged Eddie to see it with you in theaters more times than you cared to admit— but he never once complained.

He had actually enjoyed it, even making a comment or two about how he thought Reese Witherspoon was pretty. Which got the wheels in your head turning, leading you into a salon chair with bleach covering your head.

“It looks amazing, hun,” Nancy gushed as you left the salon, arms linked together as you ventured deeper into the Starcourt Mall.

There was a new air of confidence about you as you walked, sipping on Orange Julius’ smoothies. You all but dragged her into Wet Seal to help you find the perfect outfit for later. Steve was hosting yet another rager, which had become a recurring weekend event amongst your friend group.

After many trips to the fitting room (and an impromptu fashion show), you eventually walked out of the mall with a mini black dress and matching pair of platform sandals.

You decided to keep this new look under wraps for the rest of the day, waiting until Steve’s party to reveal it to everyone.

As you walked into the male’s home you kept your head high, pushing through the crowd of tipsy college kids to find your friends. Eddie was going to meet you here after band practice had wrapped up. But you couldn’t help but feel your nerves stirring in your stomach.

What if he hated it?

Logically you knew it didn’t matter, it was your hair after all. But you still wanted him to like it nonetheless.

You spotted Robin and Steve in the living room, bounding over to them with a smile. They were clearly in the middle of a squabble of some sort, but Robin’s face lights up once she sees you.

It was quite obvious she was already wasted, her cheeks thoroughly flushed as she stumbled towards you. Steve’s eyes widen in surprise, attempting to reign her back in but she easily shrugs him off.

“Oh my god, Nance told me it looked good. But it’s way better than I could’ve imagined!” She squealed, pulling you into a hug as you just laughed.

She leans closer to your ear, hanging onto your arm for support, “Dude… Eddie is gonna lose it. It’s giving Pam Anderson and Elle Woods— you look hot.”

You felt your cheeks warm from her words, as Steve is finally able to tug her off of you with an annoyed expression. You hadn’t even thought about that, taking a glance down at your attire. It was very reminiscent of an outfit you’d seen Ms. Anderson sporting on the cover of one of those trashy tabloid magazines recently.

Robin was right, per usual but it only makes you more anxious for your boyfriend to arrive.

You make your way over to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink, nearly chugging it in an attempt to make your nerves disappear. But one drink quickly turns into four and having not eaten much before you arrived— you became very drunk, very fast.

So drunk that you didn’t even notice when Eddie finally did arrive, after a very concerned phone call from Steve.

The brunette was already having to babysit Robin, but now he was struggling to keep you both in check. Chasing the two of you around his house, your chorus of giggles barely being heard above the bubbly pop music. Eddie arrives soon after that phone call, searching frantically through the crowd of people to find you.

However it didn’t take him very long to do so.

A crowd had begun to form in Steve’s dining room, as you pulled Robin up onto his table with you. Both of you dancing drunkenly on the top of it, letting the heavy bass pump through you. The both of you ignore the whistles and shouts from the crowd, raising your hands above your head.

Eddie had finally pushed his way to the front of the crowd, watching in amusement as you got a little too into the gyration of your hips. Not a care in the world as you tossed your head back. Seemingly forgetting about the large chandelier that hung behind you. That amusement turns to slight horror as the back of your head smacks right against the light fixture.

A combination of the impact and the alcohol has you feeling lightheaded, your knees start to wobble. Robin gasps in shock, attempting to grab on to your wrist but fails miserably as you lose your balance. Letting you fall back into the crowd and right into a pair of strong arms.

Your vision is blurred and your head starts to spin as the person quickly carries you out of the room, cradling you against their chest. In your inebriated and dizzy state you don’t realize it’s the metalhead you’ve been waiting to see all night.

You squirm in his arms, attempting to get him to put you down, “Excuse me— I have a boyfriend.” You huff, pushing against their denim clad shoulder, “Put me down!”

The pout adorning your lips causes him to chuckle, immediately recognizing the sound. You blink your lashes rapidly as your boyfriend’s face finally comes into focus. That pout is quickly replaced with a toothy grin, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss him.

Eddie kisses you back gently, kicking the door shut behind him. He sits you both down on the bed, now in the comfort of Steve’s guest room. You snuggle up into his chest immediately, playing with his dark curls.

“Glad you’ve finally come back down to earth, love,” he hums, "Is your head feeling okay?”

You sigh happily, nodding as Eddie begins to feel the back of your head. Carefully inspecting it to make sure you haven’t done any significant damage. You wince as he finds a tender spot, the male pressing a light kiss to it.

“So you dye your hair and go completely off the rails,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I’m just glad I got here when I did.”

His concerned tone makes you giggle nonetheless, leaning up to press a sloppy kiss against his jaw. The room had finally stopped spinning, and you felt ready to get back to the party.

“You know what they say, Eds, blondes have more fun.”

Eddie just rolls his eyes at you fondly, ruffling your freshly dyed locks.

“Uh huh, sure they do, sweetheart.”

#the freak writes 🫧 #my series: opposites attract 🫧 #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #y2k!eddie munson x girly reader #y2k!eddie munson #early 2000s!eddie munson

[mewkwota]

. . . Is that Johnny Silverhand?

Yeah. I had to get him out of my system today.

#I have no other intentions with drawing him elsewhere I just wanted to try sketching the guy out at least once #it's hard because he also looks like a real-life person so yeah I'm gonna keep the shades on I don't want to deal with that #anywho cyberpunk is one of those games that I haven't played just watched from afar #and it's trashy but I enjoy some trashiness from time to time (but why do I have to explain that to you) #doodle-daas #cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #hello to you all too I guess-- don't come here looking for anything else

[crypticminx]

hello! could I request Felix and reader leaving together at an Oxford party and their night? THANK YOU<3 could be smut or fluff whatever you prefer

Hello lovely!! Here you go!!! Hope you enjoy xx 🩷

AN: smutttt, Dom!felix, small breeding kink, daddy kink and little bit of flufff <3 P in V, unprotected sex xoxo

Oxford parties.

Drunk people scattered around like zombies, making complete utter fools of themselves on the dance floor as loud hip music blared through the drums of each speaker. Copious amounts of strong liquor was always passed around and one could only hope they didn't get sick from sharing the mouth stained bottles.

Trashy to say the least—but classy in each partygoers pumped heart.

Felix Catton was known for always being in attendance at such parties and stemmed to be the heart throbbing crowd pleaser—that is for all the enraged horny females.

Practically throwing their limp, alcohol filled bodies at him, Felix wasn’t known to be a rejecting heartbreaker, but curiosity always got the best of him, leaving himself to never turn down a good night. Even if that meant following those girls back to their messy dorms.

However, All good things must come to an end, and what—or for a better word, who was finally good for Felix was none other than the most gorgeous girl on campus: Y/N Y/L.

Cuffed, taken, bagged; Felix could proudly admit for once, with a cheery smile, that he was in an amazing relationship.

So when Y/N and Felix started to arrive at every annual party, dashing hand in hand, they received the usual jealous stares from snotty singles and the more pleased ones from their tight knit group of friends.

This night was no different from the same, besides the new arcade fire song that was blasting on repeat. Although parties were a fun festivity to end off a tiresome week of studies, Y/N didn’t find the vibe as enjoyable as previous events.

Standing in the corner holding a red solo cup that was filled with more juice than vodka, Y/N kept to herself for the most part and only encouraged herself to drink by taking a few ditzy shots with Oliver while her beloved Felix was challenged to a silly game of beer pong.

Typical, she thought

Gulping the rest of her drink, Y/N tried her best to look for Felix and while she did so, she gave herself the time to elaborate a good excuse on why they should ditch the party.

The atmosphere was sweaty, humid, and a small stench of some lightweights nasty vomit sprouted it’s aroma from the bathroom. If that wasn’t a good wake up call, what was?

Lost in the haze of people who were doing some new stupid dance trend, Y/N groaned as she felt herself bumping into someone. Nearly spilling her drink, she managed to stop herself before becoming the embarrassment of the night.

She was too full of mental exhaustion—rather more frustrated to even look at up at the soul she collided into.

“Hey,” she knew that voice anywhere and instantly felt relief.

“Jeez fel,” she called him by his proufound nickname she granted him when they first started dating, “I’ve been looking for you like a mad man!”

He chuckled and wrapped a lose arm around her shoulder. Y/N’s eyes fluttered with awe as he did just so and she quickly wondered how in the midst of the grossness around them, Felix could still manage to look so perfect.

Ugh, just a quick glance at her man and she could feel herself growing internally hungry.

Dressed in a loose throw over that appeared to have not a single alcohol stain and his hair—heavens his hair, not one strand of his neat chestnut locks was out of place. He always kept his composure, at least that was one thing different about him and his inseparable sister, Venetia.

“So, ‘m thinking,” he began as he pulled Y/N closer into his chest, the smell of his lovely cologne filling her nose with its radiant clove scent.

“Oh, so you managed to actually use your brain tonight?” Y/N interrupted him, earning a swift tap on her button nose as he goofishly grinned at her.

“Quiet you,” he cooed before leaning closer to her frame, “wanna get out of here?

Her eyes widened in delight as she felt Felix slyly move his needy hands down to the hem of her plaid skirt. A slight clench of his hands that grabbed her bottom made her want to run as fast and far away into privacy with her loving man.

“I thought you’d never ask, love,” grinning like her face had no end, Felix offered his girlfriend his hand as they were about to politely escort themselves out of the way and into the young night.

That was until-

“Oi,” a voice chirped from behind them, causing the couple to swing back as a natural reaction, “and just where do you think you two lovebirds are going?” Oliver entered his way into the picture, something he managed to always do.

“Ollie,” Felix deviously beamed, “I have things to do.”

Felix could be such a smug little asshole.

“More like a special someone to do,” Oliver winked and lifted his cup in Y/N direction, earning an annoyed look of disapproval.

Oliver was just as much as an asshole, but that’s why him and Felix hit it so well.

“Catch you in a bit,” it was more of a statement as opposed to a question, but Oliver knew what the couple was up to.

Oliver knew better than to ever insult Y/N, but the more time Felix included her in things, she developed a strong bond with his pals, but Oliver had slithered his way with getting to know her the most.

He was welcoming, kind and graciously humble, unlike some of the many pricks that marked their way in Oxford, not caring who they belittled or how they did it.

“Whatever you say Mrs. Catton,” she playfully flipped Oliver off as he shook his head with a small chuckle, turning his back away from Y/N and Felix and into the crowd of people.

——————————————————-

“Felix!” Y/N giggled before she fell to the ground, laughing all the way down as she felt long, uncomfortable pieces of grass embrace her body. It was almost a tickling sensation.

“Shhhh,” Felix cupped his hand over her lipstick stained mouth, feeling her warm breath on his palm as it seemed nearly impossible for her to stop herself, “I don’t want to cause a scene my darling.”

With all her might, she moved Felix’s hand away from her face and contently sighed, “oh, but you always do, my love.”

“Feisty now?” He cocked an eyebrow down to where she layed like an angel in the field, waiting for him to avenge her with his sweet love.

“For you, always.”

“Then let’s stop wasting time,” he groaned, feeling his cock twitch at the thought of getting to put it in his sweet girl, tension rising within him to get the job done right, but to also make it lasting and worthwhile.

There was nothing more he loved than making her release herself in waves of pure ecstasy that came with her angelic moans of delight.

Throwing his shirt off somewhere in a small bush behind him, his graceful fingers took absolutely no time in undoing Y/N’s silk, button down and uncuffing her bra.

He was marveled at the sight before him and without any hesitation, he leaned down and began to mark her smooth skin with aggressive kisses that were filled with passion.

Y/N being half naked and about to do it in a forest; it seemed like something from a cheesy movie.

Doing the deed at a house party was cliche and reminded Felix of his past more than he liked to remember and doing it on one of the various campus balconies was adventurous—but a total letdown once it started to rain over Felix and Y/N.

However, now felt like the right time.

“Love,” Y/N gently spoke in between long kisses from Felix, “are you gonna take off my skirt?”

Y/N startled in place as Felix almost ripped off all of her bottoms, fearing he had broke one her favourite skirts he had purchased for her.

Fully naked, Y/N felt an immediate sensation of heat rush over her body and instantly forgot about all the outdoor surroundings as Felix yanked off his belt and threw away his jeans and boxers into mid air.

It was just her, Felix, and all the nights starry glory that was upon them.

“Fuck,” he moaned as he hands fondled her breasts, hard nipples graced the tips of his palms, “you’re beautiful.”

It might’ve been too dark for Felix to see it, but Y/N still managed to blush every time he complimented her—which was practically every heartfelt second they spent together .

“Fel,” she started to beg, “I need you.”

He eagerly placed himself back on top of her, leaving his hard cock to graze the outside of her already soaked cunt. In any regular situation, he would’ve been thrusting with all his might, but tonight he was feeling different.

“Not until you say my name, darling,” he demanded.

“Please daddy.” Y/N squeaked, panting for him to enter himself inside of her.

“That’s my good girl,” he smirked in delight, pushing himself with ease as his rock solid cock glided into Y/N.

“Mmm,” she tried to fight back a moan, but it was no use. She needed him more than ever.

She felt her legs twitch as they melted into bliss as Felix steadily did what he does best; fucking her.

“Baby,” he groaned as he maneuvered himself to grab her soft hair as he dove into her neck for more kisses, “you always get so damn wet for me.”

Y/N moved closer to his frame as his hands tugged her head to his face, his cock continuing to puncture her in all the right ways.

He violated her mouth as his tongue swirled in fast pace with hers, Y/N having to breakaway from his kiss just to catch her breath.

“Oh Felix—daddy,” she bit her lip, feeling himself plunge harder into her as she mistakenly called him by his name, “I want to cum.”

“Not yet darling, let me feel you more.”

Y/N toes curled as he let out a loud groan of pleasure, looking down at her flushed face, he was so proud to call her his girl.

“Mmm sweetheart,” he panted in between breaths, “aren’t you tired of Oxford.”

Oxford? Why the hell was be going on about school during intercourse?

“N-Not really,” she squeaked in response.

“Well baby,” he lingered his way back to her face, planting sloppy kisses as he felt her nails scratch deep into his lean back, “when can I take you out of here and make you my pretty little wife?

Y/N hummed in response, closing her eyes as they relaxed into bliss, “you plan on knocking me up too, yeah?”

Felix couldn’t tell if she was being serious—what is said during sex is not always reality, but just the mild thought of him getting the chance to plant his seed in his beloved made him turn ravenous.

He would do anything for Y/N, but if he could keep her away from any thirsty Oxford boys and make her his wife and potential mother of his children, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“Jesus,” he croaked, already feeling himself starting to lose his pace due to his cock becoming seconds away from releasing into her. “You have no idea, my baby.”

“Daddy—“ Y/N shouted through the bushes of the forest garden, “come with me.”

And like the perfect scene from a porno film, the couple came in unison, wordlessly twinkling at each other with a strong glimmer of love in each one of their eyes.

Y/N let herself be free and rolled her head back, enjoying the climax of her orgasm, feeling more than satisfied with Felix’s overwhelming stimulation of an erotic performance.

She sighed, “I love you.”

Felix, already trying to find her clothes so she wouldn’t freeze in the cool night. “I’m serious, y’know.”

“About marriage or…”

“All of it, my darling,” he gently patted Y/N’s head of messy hair due to their rough embrace.

“But right now?” Y/N sounded hesitant, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t up for it.

“Whenever,” he sat down to her side, passing her ruffled clothing, before leaning to kiss her gracefully on the cheek. “I’d wait an entire lifetime for you, angel.”

Y/N knew the time wasn’t right, they had their whole lives ahead of them, but then again, she could always stop taking her birth control and see what fate would have in store for them.

Though—for now at least, she felt at ease and more than happy to have another memorable shared night with her lover.

#felix catton smut #jacob elordi #saltburn #felix catton x you #felix catton x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton #jacob elordi x reader #saltburn 2023 #oliver quick #felix catton fanfic

[evanpetersmybf]

Be mine?

Tate Langdon x female!reader

Summary: Meeting you was his destiny. He had to make you his so he could feel alive... It was meant to be.

Genre: Smut.

Word count: 3,172

Warnings: Virgin and inexperienced reader, mentions of bullying, self-harm (just once and is nothing detailed), obsessive and stalkish behavior, swearing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v and cumshot.

A/N: English isn't my first language and this is my first time writing smut, so sorry if it sucks or if I have grammatical mistakes or something TT. Btw, also sorry if Tate's out of character. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ

Tate had another bad day. It was the usual. Bullying, failed tests, the teacher humiliating him after he couldn’t solve a simple equation on the chalkboard, his mother scolding him. Nothing seemed new, and it seemed that nothing wasn’t going to change at any point.

He needed something, a reason to live, something to make him feel alive. Because he was dead. Dead in life, which in his own opinion, was even worse than being a rotten corpse.

He headed to the music store after secretly stealing some of his mom’s money, just a few bucks; the enough amount to buy a vinyl or some CD’s. Tate was sort of a music elitist, always believing that the artists nowadays just created pure, hollow, and trashy songs. In fact, he didn’t believe those could even be considered music.

Walking around the nearly empty store, rummaging through the shelves filled with Nirvana vinyl’s, someone bumped into him.

“Oh, sorry.” You spoke, after accidentally taking too many steps back and bumping into Tate’s behinds.

He frowned, somewhat annoyed at you for disturbing his moment of peace. The blonde turned around to look at who it was, scanning your body from head to toe, taking note of your appearance. Then, his dark eyes drifted to the sign that was on top the shelf, which indicated the musical genre of the records that were on that rack. Alternative pop. His gaze went to the album you were hugging to yourself.

“Cry Baby? What type of crap is that?”

“Huh, excuse me?”

“Never mind, you won’t understand.” Tate talked in such a volatile and rude manner, already feeling superior because of his likes.

You arched an eyebrow. What was his problem? You did nothing to him and yet he was here, judging your amazing music taste.

“Well, people’s free to like whatever they want to, hmm?”

“Uh, yeah, but what’s the point of that if everything is so generic?”

“Have you ever listened to Melanie Martinez at least once?”

He shook his head no, still scowling, now fidgeting with a ring that was on one of his fingers.

“Have you listened to Nirvana?”

“Just like… Two songs?”

“Don’t tell me. Smells Like Teen Spirit?”

“Guilty.”

Tate rolled his eyes. What was going on with this generation? What happened to good music, to the greatest artists? Why was everyone just listening to trash?

After sharing your names and a few more words, debating about who was right and who wasn’t, you placed one of your hands over his right shoulder, as an attempt to stop his rant of how superior he was. And indeed, it worked. The teen stopped venting and stared at you, all confused and a bit uncomfortable. You noticed it and quickly stepped back, apologizing for touching him without permission. He told you it was okay, that you just surprised him. But deep down, that simple yet complex touch meant a lot to Tate, even if it was absolutely nothing to you.

For the first time he felt something more than sorrow.

“So… What do you think of this? I’ll make you listen to some songs by Melanie and other artists, and I’ll listen to your beloved beautiful grunge music.” You said those last words in a mocking way.

Tate huffed, clearly offended by the way you referred to his taste. Nevertheless, in the end he agreed with you.

After paying the stuff you two picked, both of you went to Tate’s place. As you walked next to him, your fingers brushed his, making his cheeks turn a light shade of red and his heart flutter. He felt dizzy, not sure about what was going on.

In his house, he took you to his room. The boy didn’t want his mother to see you, otherwise she’d be too nosy and probably scare you and push you away from him, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“Get comfy.” He mused, extending his hand as if inviting you to take a seat wherever you feel to.

“Thanks.” You sat on the floor, using one of the sides of the bed as a support for your back. He did the same and sat right next to you.

He was nervous. So damn nervous and excited. He brought a pretty chick to his place. The Tate Langdon, the outcast, the bullied, that Tate Langdon was in the same room with a girl? He couldn’t believe it.

“Ladies first.” Tate pointed the record-player with his thumb, and you obeyed, placing the CD in it. The music started playing.

“We could’ve used Spotify, y’know?”

“Nah, I don’t like it. I prefer the old school.”

‘Cry Baby’ was the first track that was listened to.

He squinted his eyes and rubbed his chin, analyzing the sounds, the melody, the harmony and of course the lyrics.

Although it wasn’t his style, you definitely were. The way you looked, talked, walked. How you stood up for your beliefs and didn’t allow him to step on you (even if you just discussed about music). It was new for him. He craved your independence. He craved you.

That was the very moment when he realized that you were the thing he was looking for all his life. You were the one who was meant to be his, he was meant to be yours. It was destiny. Tate truly believed it was some kind of divine prophecy, and he wasn’t going to let you go.

He was so immersed in his mind that he didn’t pay attention to the song anymore. He was solely focused on you, remembering how warm and kind your touch was, how sweet your voice was. ‘Oh, she’s mine’, he thought.

“So… That was the first track. Its name’s Cry Baby. Did you like it?”

Tate snapped out of it and bit his bottom lip. He didn’t listen to your question.

“I’m sorry, what did you?—”

“Did you like the song?”

“Ah, yeah yeah. It’s quite… Innovative. I’ve never heard something like that.”

You smiled and clapped your hands. “Of course! She’s such a genius. Let’s finish the album, hm?”

He just nodded, as a little smirk appeared on his face.

The days flew by, and Tate asked you out on many friendly dates. Or at least that’s what you thought because you were so oblivious at the fact that he had a fat crush on you.

With every hang out, you noticed that Tate was lonely. Like, really lonely. Maybe that’s why he was so clingy with you.

He told you about his family, about how annoying Constance was, about his siblings and about how his father left him behind. He also mentioned the bullying he suffered and almost talked about the self-harm but stopped himself.

Both of you grew closer, as his obsession.

Since you went to a different school, he would skip class and infiltrate your campus just to see you. He couldn’t stand being away from you. And if he did, his mind was full of you, thinking of you all day, unable to focus on his homework and tests. Tate didn’t care anymore if he failed subjects, as long as you were next to him, he was happy and alive.

The void he once felt, was now fulfilled with your mere presence. You could step on him, and he would thank you. In his twisted little mind, you were free to have everything of him.

He was willing to do anything to keep you by his side. The thought of losing was so terrifying that it would make him throw up.

Tate learned every single detail about you. Your mannerisms, your likes and dislikes, your dreams, and your fears. Everything. And that includes your schedule since you wake up, and since you go to sleep.

That was his definition of love. No one ever taught him about how to express it, and he ended up being the way he was with you.

One day he invited you over to his place. The Langdon's house was empty, and he was going to take advantage of it. No doubt.

“Your mom isn’t home?” You questioned as you followed him behind, going upstairs straight to his bedroom. Little did you know this wasn’t going to be another afternoon of playing board games while listening to some music.

“Nah, dunno where she went but she won’t be back any time soon.” He shrugged and let you inside of his private space,

You went to lay down on bed, feeling relief in your aching back after a long day at school. “Damn, I need some rest!”

Tate chuckled softly and sat on the edge, looking at you as you closed your eyes and tried to relax. He was focused on your steady and calm breathing, on how your breasts went up and down with every inhalation and exhalation. His eyes stared at your lips, at how kissable they looked. He felt a sudden desire, the intense urge to make you his. Feeling conflicted, he shook his head and tried to distract himself, pretending to ignore how aroused he was getting.

He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but of course he already had some wet dreams of you. He imagined you beneath him, your precious body shivering and responding to his touch, to his kisses. Your cunt wet and ready for him, just how he wanted to.

“Y/N…” Tate cooed, unable to hold back any longer.

“Yeah?” You opened one of your eyes and spotted him, sitting on the bed with his fists clenched over his thighs, while his breathing looked kinda rapid. “You ‘kay?”

“No.”

“Uh? What’s wrong?” You reincorporated and sat straight beside his warm figure. Your right hand touched his left, rubbing it up and down with your thumb.

Tate shoved you to the bed, pinning your arms above your head and holding them tight.

His breathing pattern was no longer normal. It was a heavy one.

His dark brown eyes locked with yours. Your orbs were wide, not understanding what the hell was going on. Or maybe you did but were in denial.

“Please. I want you.” He purred, seeing you with puppy eyes, the ones he knew you couldn’t resist.

“Hahah, you funny.”

He let out a frustrated whine, almost begging on his knees for you to get the hint.

“I’m not kidding. Pretty please. I need you.”

“Do you mean…?” You raised your head a few centimeters to look at his crotch in order to confirm your suspicions. Your cheeks had a cute blush as soon as you noticed Tate’s erection restrained by his jeans. It looked painful, and it actually was.

“Yes. I want to. Please, I truly need it. Please, please, please?” His voice was shaky and low, a needy desperate whisper. “Can I?”

This wasn’t what you expected for today. You saw Tate as a best friend, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome… And that he already provoked butterflies in your stomach before.

Hesitantly, you gave a shy nod with your head, giving him consent to continue. “But Tate… I’ve never done this before, I dunno what to do, I—” You trailed off, being cut off mid-sentence when Tate placed his lips over yours. The kiss was slow and tender, not rough at all. Your bottom lip was between his, as he nibbled it with extreme care to not hurt you.

After some seconds, he pulled apart and led his hand towards the side of your face, brushing some hairs away. “Don’t ya worry, princess. Leave it all to me, hm? I’ll be gentle. Unless you don’t want me to.” With that being said, he leaned into your neck, pressing his mouth on your sensitive flesh. He left sweet kisses, making you hum as you melted under him.

His lips continued to tease your skin, leaving some little bites between every kiss, trailing down to your collarbone. Tate stopped there and helped you get rid of your blouse, tossing it aside and continued his journey, this time kissing your sternum while his right hand cupped one of your breasts, kneading it gently over the fabric of your bra. He pulled down the straps and took off the piece of lingerie, setting your tits free.

The cold air hit you and your nipples perked up, looking ravishing and making him desire you even more.

He introduced one of the hardened buds into his warm mouth, sucking it greedily and making lewd wet sounds as he did so. His left rubbed the other nipple in circles, taking it with his thumb and index, pulling it and pinching it.

“Hmph… Huh…” You let out soft whimpers, slightly arching your back meanwhile he abused your breasts.

Tate stopped after some minutes, letting go of your nipple and looking at you, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to the side. He approached your ear and whispered, “You like this?”

“Yes…” You begged. Your voice was already ragged and shaky.

Instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, rubbing them as a pathetic try to feel some relief. Tate realized it and spread your legs with one of his hands. He took his digits right to your clothed pussy, eagerly rubbing the spot where your clit was.

“Someone’s already wet? Cute.” He giggled and took off his striped sweater, throwing it away. He positioned himself between your limbs and pulled down your pants, mesmerized as he saw your damp panties. Tate continued rubbing your bundle of nerves over the fabric of your underwear, still fascinated at how humid you were.

This was the moment he had been waiting for the past weeks. He wasn’t going to need to jerk off to your photos anymore, because now he would be able to jerk off to your tits in person.

Tate removed the last barrier that was stopping him from touching your womanhood directly. He pulled them down to your ankles and you helped him to get rid of it by shaking your feet.

He got closer to your cunt and placed your legs over his shoulder, spreading your folds with two of his large digits, blowing some air at the sensitive meat. Finally, he started sucking on your swollen clitoris, enjoying the feeling of your dampness against his face.

“Mmh…” He moaned, still toying with the nub. You grabbed him by the hair, not thinking about what you were doing. You just let yourself go and pulled him closer to your pussy, wanting to feel more. Your body twitched, unconsciously bucking your hips against his mouth that was currently making slurping sounds.

His attention changed and was now on your slit, teasing just the entrance with his hot tongue, while his nose rubbed against your clit. He lapped your pretty cunt, savoring your juices as if they were a delicacy.

Looking at your adorable face contorting in pleasure, he introduced his ring finger into your wet, tight hole. It was a slow and kind movement because the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He slipped it deeper, pumping it in and out with care, increasing speed after a few seconds once he saw you comfortable. “Tell me if it hurts…”

“Mhm… It feels nice. Huh…” Your melodic whimpers and moans were just too much for him. He could listen to you for the rest of his days and never get tired of you.

Without further ado, he introduced his middle finger, now finger-fucking you with two. Tate’s thumb was also working wonders on your lil’ bundle of nerves in circular motion.

She was clenching around Tate’s large fingers, that he curled inside of her, hitting the right spot to make you squirm and feel a new and foreign sensation in your lower belly.

“Fuck it, I can’t wait anymore.”

He undid his belt, unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers, quickly getting rid of them and letting them fall to the wooden floor.

You just stared in awe; it was the first time you saw one in real life.

Tate grabbed his hardened cock and stroked it a few times on top of you, finding amusing your silly reaction. The reddish tip was glistening with pre-cum, which he used as lube. He spat at your pussy and rubbed his slick saliva with two digits, before finally thrusting his dick.

He did it slowly, beginning with the head. Eventually, he pushed his entire length, hitting your cervix and stretching you out for the first time.

“Fuck, you’re so tight!” Even if he was taking the lead, he was a whiny mess, vocal and loud.

He continued pounding into you, his gaze never leaving your face. Tate loved how you rolled your eyes to the back of your head and how your little mouth was letting out such nasty sounds.

The room was filled with slapping and wet sounds, created by his skin slapping against yours, his balls always hitting you with every stab. Again, he placed your legs on his wide shoulders to have a better angle and pump into you deeper than before.

His big veiny hands were roaming all over your body, specifically your breasts. Within minutes, he developed an addiction to them. Probably because of his mommy issues? He grabbed them roughly, tweaking both of your nipples as he fucked you mercilessly.

Tate lolled his head as he felt your hole gripping him tight. Very tight.

He increased the pace and moaned your name, begging you to squeeze him tighter.

“Oh, please, please, please!” The blonde kept whining. He left one of his hands taking care of your nipples, while the other went back to torture your clit. He stroked it in circles, and then up and down, applying the enough amount of pressure to make you beg for more.

“Tate, I feel like I’m—”

“It’s okay, let it go, mhm?”

You couldn’t hold yourself any longer and squirted all over him, coating his lower body with your warm fluids.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, gonna cum!” Tate pulled out from your cunt and pumped his cock with his hand finishing with a loud moan. His hot sticky white cum coated your breasts and abdomen, creating an incredible sight that he always imagined.

All spent, Tate threw himself next to you on the bed, pulling a blanket to cover both of you as he filled your pretty face in candy pecks.

“Did it hurt? First time usually does.” He looked at you, concerned for your wellbeing. “I was too rough?”

You laughed and shook your head no, caressing his messy locks with your fingers, tenderly scratching his scalp. “Don’t worry, I’m fine, really.”

Tate smiled at you and kissed you on the lips, “You’re so pretty, Y/N.”

You hugged him from behind, him being the little spoon this time. Your mind was going wild; you were still processing what happened and was about to drift to sleep when he whispered.

“Y/N…?”

“Mh, what is it, Tate?”

“I love you… Please be mine?”

#tate langdon x y/n #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x you #tate x reader #tate langdon #tate langdon fanfic #tate langdon smut #evan peters x female reader #evan peters x you #evan peters x reader #evan peters x y/n #evan peters fanfic #evan peters #kai anderson x y/n #kai anderson x you #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson #kit walker x reader #kit walker #kit walker x y/n #kit walker x you #ahs fandom #ahs fanfic

[wandasfifthwife]

(4) sweet thing | I got a bad idea series

—> masterlist

southern!wandanat x fem!city-girl reader

tw: fluff, hurt/comfort, light angst

a/n: not really proofread, sorry babes. it’s 3AM and I’m fucking tired and I have classes in a few hours—later I will—enjoy!!

It’s not abnormal for someone with a crush to confess. It’s how a majority of relationships start however the “confession” may go. Some are casual, extreme, dull; some don’t confess anything at all. You were between wanting to be honest and wanting to keep it hidden until it fades away.

It felt all too fast. You had begun to question if their actions last night were flirtatious. Your mind swaps each moment where you were held close to their chest as a part of the dance. Anytime they said something flirtatious, you told yourself it was them being friendly. You fall all too fast and this is just another time where you’ve fallen for the first person who’s shown care in you. You have nobody to blame but yourself.

Wanda stood beside you at the post office, the letter Natasha fretted about in her hands. The lights were a strange yellow, and not to mention hanging off of the ceiling. A few of the white squares tiled were cracked from heavy packages being dropped onto them. Neither of you thought it to be trashy, it felt like home if anything, with each break and crack remind you the backstory on how it happened.

You had driven back with your brother the night before, grinning as you daydreamed the whole car ride home. Anything anyone said to you that night, you responded with excitement. You carried your brother up the stairs, heaving him onto the couch downstairs and took to the guest room.

He still laid on the couch that morning when Wanda walked on your front porch. You however were awake, opening the door with a cheerful expression. That’s why you’re standing beside her now in the office.

“Hi there,” she says, sliding the envelope onto the counter, “I wanted to come and ask why we’ve been receiving the wrong mail?”

The old man behind the counter pulls out his glasses, “you’re not Miss Parson?”

“No, sir, I’m not.”

“Huh,” he grunts, “I’ll take it and ship it over. Might be a new mailman issue.”

She thanks him, pulling her purse back onto her shoulder. She pushes the door open, holding it until you walk out.

“It’s not a big deal” she starts, “I just dont want to deal with Natasha nagging anymore.”

“Does she worry over things often?”

“Natasha doesn’t have great control over her stress. She tends to react however she feels in the moment.”

“And you?”

She rests her hand on your seat, looking behind you as she backs the car out, “I just think some things aren’t worth so much stress.”

“Like the envelope,” you ask.

“Exactly like the envelope,” she laughs, removing her hands from the wheel to let it spin back, “are you doing anything else today?”

“I don’t believe so, why?”

“You could help me unload a shipment. Natasha had to leave early this morning for a meeting in town, so she won’t be back until late.”

You agree to help, “what kind of shipment is it?”

“Different types of feed. They were supposed to come a week ago, another thing Natasha’s been nagging me about.”

She parks the car, taking the keys out of the ignition before stepping down and out of the car. An old man stood nearby, bottom side hanging from how he was leaning over his car. Wanda mumbles to you as you walk over, “don’t worry about the remarks he may make, it’s just because he’s never been laid.”

You believed her. It was proven to be true a minute after he got out from the truck bed. His attention on you while Wanda talked to him was a signal he took interest in you. He opened his mouth and immediately Wanda was walking him in the opposite direction.

“Can you unload for me,” she calls out to you, “set it all back by the shed out in the back

You hear the old man make a remark to Wanda as you walk off with two bags in hand. It took four rounds until everything was set in the shed. The seasons were changing, grass turning yellow and tree leaves popping warm colors of red and orange. The wind was cold, but the sun and humidity still made a presence. Your arms tired after heaving thirty pounds for half an hour.

Wanda frowns seeing you, “oh sweetheart, would you like a drink?”

She brought you inside, her home more familiar after the frequent visits. You knew where her kitchen was, pulling a seat out to comfortably rest. She pours a cup, setting it on the table in front of you. You short-circuit when her fingers splay across the expanse of your back.

“Thank you,” she says, voice dropping, “I appreciate all the help. Natasha will be erratic once she’s back home and realizes she has two less things to worry over.”

You lean forward onto the table to hopefully signal you’d like her fingers to move wish ease across more skin. She does, moving to press her cold hand brushes against your neck. You sigh, dropping your head onto the table.

“Of course, I don’t mind.”

“How’re you feeling about going home soon.”

The reminder of your soon flight made your stomach drop. These moments would come to an end when you got the plane. You curse at yourself and shrug her hand away.

“Okay,” she begins, tone sharp, “what’s all this about?”

“What’s what?”

She sidesteps around your chair to face you, “this flaky attitude.”

“Oh really, flaky?”

“You’ve been hiding out since the first day you came back,” she rests her back against the counter, attention fixed on you, “why.”

“I’m asking, what do you mean by flaky?”

“You act like it’s more convenient to run rather than talking about it with us. You ran the night you got drunk, you avoided us after, and you’re about to do it again,” she sighs, “don’t you think that’s quite immature for your age?”

You tear up, teeth biting at your cheek to keep it at bay. She stays silent, patiently awaiting whatever reaction you’ll have. You’re avoiding her, focusing on picking at your nails.

“I like you.”

It’s lower than a whisper but she hears it.

“I enjoy being around you more than I should,” your voice wobbles, “and I don’t want it to turn into something real so that’s why I keep running. You make it all the more difficult when you continue to reach out.”

Her hands are on you again, holding your face as she leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes are closed shut, eyelashes wet from crying. Small apologies tumble from your lips in the tense space.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve ruined everything.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” she stops you, “I want to ask you to stay until Natasha gets back. Are you alright with that, angel?”

You nod and she mumbles an okay, stepping back from you to give you space to breathe. Time passes and your tears eventually dry, leaving small shiny marks on your face. You mention to Wanda that your heads begin to hurt and she’s quick to bring you simple pain meds.

You take them with the drink she poured earlier. She watches you until the sound of the front key hitting the front door has pulled her attention elsewhere. Natasha steps through the front door, setting down her bags. Her muffled greetings cutting short seeing you and your tear stained face.

“Everything alright?”

You’re scared and can feel it creeping up in your lungs, making it feel like you can’t fully breathe. Wanda leans in front, setting a hand on your thigh.

“Hey,” she shushes you with a smile, “you’re alright. I only wanted to wait until she got home so we can share our little secret with you too.”

“Oh cut it out already,” you wheeze, “it’s not funny.”

Natasha interrupts, “I’m very confused.”

Wanda ignores her wife continuing where she left off.

“We feel the same way, angel.”

Your heart jumps, the brokenness in it wishing to be healed, but you’re still unbelieving even after she’s just told you. All throughout the day you’ve believed the things she’s told you and now you’re doubting one sentence.

“What?”

“Ever since that night, seeing you again. We’ve been growing fond of you.”

Natasha’s caught on now. She’s found herself sitting at the table across from you. She looks exhausted with her hair a mess and eye bags prevalent.

“We can take it slow,” she adds on, “see how it feels tomorrow and decide from there.”

“But I’m leaving soon.”

“That’s fine. You’re holding the reins here, we’ll be okay what whatever you suggest.”

You smile, “tomorrow sounds nice.”

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@ncis-nerd @thalia-is-not-ok @dorabledewdroop @simpforlizzie @huggingkoalas @yvungmxshroom @hella-hecka-gay @sgm616 @sapphic-simp4015 @puta1 @natty-taffy @the-chocolate-void @scarlizziee @mysticalmoonlight7 @jazzabebev @delulu-bayolet-era @olicity-boo @esposadejoyhuerta @marvelwomen-simp @sokovianbaby

#I got a bad idea series #southern!wandanat x reader #wandanat x reader #southern!wandanat #southern!natasha #southern!wanda #wanda x reader #wanda x nat x reader #wanda x natasha x reader #natasha x wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x natasha #natasha x fem!reader smut #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x wanda #natasha x reader #natasha romanov x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanov x reader #marvel natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff

[gojo-enthusiast]

Kento Nanami ~

Wake Me Up

*Sleep Sex* MDI, 18+ Only! Kento wakes you up to a sweet surprise *😉* after working a long day fighting curses. Do not read if it triggers! Anyways, enjoy my first piece 😈

Word count: <2200

PSA: did not proof read, honestly I’m always horny for JJK men, so beware and stay tuned for more disgusting pieces. Also are we gonna talk about how fucking hot Nanami is in season 2???? Follow me on X (Twitter)

Like and reblog🫶🏻

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had stayed awake until midnight, taken your shower, exfoliated, & shaved.

"Ken should be home anytime soon" checking your phone seeing the time

6:00 PM

Getting yourself all prepped and ready for him to come home to a sweet surprise. You had been aching all day long, this morning he had been loving on you, slowly caressing your thighs, and right when he was going to put his hands into your heat, his phone starts ringing,

“Fuck. Who is calling me?” He groans grabbing his phone, “What the fuck does Satoru want.” He groans once again. Your husband was not one to cuss often, only when he was upset, (usually at Satoru) or when he was fucking you.

“What is it Gojo-San?” Nanami ask begrudgingly,

“Nanamiiiiii-“ Satoru says in a shrill

You didn’t hear all that was said, but the moment the called ended, your husband stood up and kissed your forehead.

“So sorry my love, but I have to leave. I promise we will finish what we started when I get home.” He says smiling faintly.

“Everything okay?” You ask, wrapping the sheets around you as he gets in the shower to get ready to leave for another day of killing curses. A job you hated so much, but you knew that him working his office job, was only making him feel suffocated, and had no meaning to his life.

“Yeah, just some curses. Nothing to be worried about. Satoru is out of town, I have to take the new kid Yuuji Itadori with me today.” He says washing his face, you see the bubbles of the soap form, and sink down his skin to the drain. You look down, and see his member hard as a rock, he looked frustrated.

“You sure we can’t fix that before you go?” You smirk, “Don’t tease me, or you’ll regret it later on.” He groans, you watched as he slightly stroked it in the shower, you watched, knowing he was about to burst any second. He wanted to fuck you right then and there, but he knew if he did, he would be late, and he wouldn’t stop. And then there it was, he had finished all over his hand, the water washing it off.

“Fuck. I wish that was in me right now.” You moan, “Get out before you tempt me anymore.” He says as he looks away from you. You do as he says, you already know how hard working your husband is, that’s why you spent the whole day pampering yourself, getting a facial, getting your nails done, everything that would make you feel and look done up. You knew how much your husband loved to see you all dolled up and manicured. I mean he didn’t work so hard for nothing. He always wanted you to be able to feel spoiled, and go definitely spoil yourself with his money.

But little did you know, your husband would be working overtime today. And you would be passed out by the time he got home.

Hubby🩵: Baby I'm running late today, I promise I will be home as soon as I can. I love you. - 6:02PM

Your husband is always home by 6PM, so you knew if he wasn’t, it was definitely something a little more serious. But you know your husband, he’s a grade 1 sorcerer, he will be home in no time.

As you lay in bed, watching some trashy reality TV, trying to stay awake. You look over at the clock

11:46PM

You feel your eyes getting heavy, the red wine you had drank during dinner finally hit you. And next thing you know, you’re cuddled under the blankets to a pillow, asleep, wishing it was your husband.

It was 1 in the morning, and Nanami finally made it home. Walking inside the house, feeling sluggish, and ready to lay in bed next to his wife, and feel her warmth.

“I need to shower.” He mutters to himself. He steps into the guest bathroom, which he usually does after a mission, because he doesn’t want to get your shared bathroom dirty. Washing off his day, feeling his muscles finally loosen up.

His phone rings again, it’s Satoru;

“What the fuck do you want Satoru?” Nanami hisses, “hey hey calm down Nanami-San, I just wanted to thank you for taking Yuuji, and taking care of those curses. Get some rest, and some ass. Ijichi told me how grumpy you were today. Take the day off tomorrow.” Satoru giggles to himself, “Was planning on it, now leave me alone.” Nanami says back, hanging up.

His phone beeps, showing that he received a text message,

Satoru Gojo: YOUR WELCOME, have fun😼

Nanami: 🖕🏻

Satoru Gojo: 🫶🏻

He finally turns his phone off, wrapping the towel around his waist, walking out the restroom down the hall, to your shared bedroom. He knows you’re asleep, there’s no way you stayed up this late for him. He walks into the bedroom, and your bottom half is under the blankets, while your top half is completely nude, and you’re sprawled out.

“Fuck, where is your clothes?” He mutters, feeling his cock stiffen, becoming erect. He climbs into bed, leaning in kissing your lips, then kissing your cheek, to your neck. “Damn it, I can’t do this while she’s sleeping.” He groans.

You had always told him how you would love to wake up to him in between your legs, but Nanami was such a “consent” man, which you loved about him, he was so respectful to you, and treasured your body, but you sometimes just wanted him to take charge and do something that wasn’t so good boy / gentlemen behavior. He remembered the conversation as he stroked himself next to you, “fuck it.” He says to himself, taking the blanket off your body.

Seeing your white laced panties, his cock at this point was throbbing. “Such a pretty little thang aren’t you?” He whispers in the crook of your neck, climbing on top of you, placing kisses down your neck, going down to your breast, starting the suck on your nipples. Placing his teeth in between your nipple, slightly biting it. Causing a moan to come out of you, while you were asleep.

“Mmm dreaming about me baby? You should wake up so you can catch the live action.” He says swirling his tongue around your areola and nipple. He started the bring himself down to your heat, sliding your panties down swiftly. “Oh how I have craved to taste you all day.” He says opening your folds with his fingers, gently placing his tongue on your clit immediately. He knew your body more than you did, and he definitely knew where you liked it the most. He quickens the pace of his tongue, sucking on your clit, you’re moaning in your sleep. Dreaming of your husband in between your legs, he doesn’t stop, wanting to taste your juices all over his tongue. He starts to rub his index and middle finger on your clit, rubbing it up and down quickly, as his tongue dips into your hole, tasting you deeply. Your eyes start to flutter open, and you’re moaning loudly now, seeing your husband in between your legs. “Ken-kento. What are you- what- ugh yes.” You try to ask what he’s doing, but he has no desire to respond back to you, his only desire is to make you cum over and over until you have melted into him. That knot in your stomach has finally snapped, and your finishing all on his tongue, he flicks his tongue up, tasting every drop coming out. “Ffffuuuuucccckkkkkkk” you groan bucking your hips up, practically humping into his face. “Yes baby just like that.” He says, still rubbing your clit, and abusing your hole with his tongue. He had one of your legs pinned down with his free hand. And the other one, was pinned down by his elbow, as he was still flicking your clit. As he continues to abuse your poor clit into overstimulation, you feel yourself about to bust. And there it was, exactly what he was wanting. You to squirt all over him, “KENTOO-!” You loudly moan, “stop, oh my god.” You cry out in pure ecstasy. You look up and see his face dripping with your liquid.

“Fuck, that’s so hot.” He says licking his lips, wiping his face with his towel. “Nanami-“ you pant, “yes baby?” He says, moving up to you, positioning himself to enter. “I missed you.” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck, as he brings his head down and starts to kiss you, sticking his tongue in your mouth. “I missed you too baby.” He kisses down your neck, sucking on it, leaving hickies all over. Because why not?

“I tried staying up,-ugh, Kento I tried staying awake.” You moan, as he starts to slide himself inside slowly, he was big, not only did this man have a long cock, but the girth was the size of a coke can. So he always had to slowly go in, never forcing himself in too fast. “I’m sorry baby I was late- ugh, today was so-fuck, - it was- so-s-so stress-stressful.” He moans, feeling your walls clench around his throbbing cock, he felt like he could burst at any moment possible.

“Damn baby you feel so so good.” Kento says finally pushing that last inch inside of you. Stretching you out at full capacity. “This sweet pussy has been on my mind since this morning. Can’t believe I went the whole day.” He pants, starting to thrust faster, “yes Kento, just like that.” You’re moaning into his ear, “fuck me baby.” You say looking into his eyes.

And that was it, that was the string that kept your husband in control, once it snapped, he and you were done for. Your pussy was about to be his flesh light. He starts pounding into you, kissing your G-spot with each thrust, you had came 3 times in the last 30 minutes from his cock alone. He kept edging himself, you knew he didn’t want it to end. He would fuck you fast and hard, and as soon as he felt like he was about to bust, he was slowing down. “Kentoooo- cum inside of me.” You moan out, “not yet baby, I’m not ready to finish.” He groans, feeling himself overstimulating himself. “Baby you feel so good. We fit perfect for each other. You belong to me, do you understand?” He says, you know it’s not a question, it’s a fact. You are his, and he is yours. And he will kill anyone who tries to get in between you two. He even thought about killing Satoru, for calling him before he was supposed to even be up getting ready to leave.

“Kento, I love you.” You moan into his ear, cumming again for the 4th time, “yes princess, cum for me.” He moans, finally about to reach his high. He’s pounding into you, with no desire to stop. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes-yes, I’m gonna cum in you, princess.” He whimpers, groaning in your ear, “yes baby, cum in me.” Your moaning, and that’s when he finally does, shooting his hot cum deep inside of you. Feeling your chest go up and down. The sweat from his forehead dripping down.

“Damn, that felt amazing.” He pants, staying on top of you, not yet taking himself out of you. “It was.” Your panting in union with your husband. “I just showered too.” He laughed, finally rolling off of you, pulling you to him, to kiss you.

“I’m sorry I was so late today, today was long.” He sighs, kissing your nose. “That’s okay baby. I understand.” You say nuzzling your head into his sweaty chest, not a care in the world.

“Princess, let’s take a shower before bed. I’ll change the sheets when we get out.” He says lifting you up, seeing his cum drip from your core. “Fuck that’s so sexy.” He whispers to himself, caring you to the shower, turning it on.

“Princess?” He looks at you, as you step in the shower,

His cum is dripping down your thighs, and your cheeks are red. He felt his cock twitch in excitement, I mean you guys usually go a couple rounds, so what would hurt if you both went again.

“I know you’re tired, and I’m tired. But, I’m going to need you to bend over and hold the shower rail.” He says, you look over and you see his cock rock hard again.

“Yes daddy.” You smirk, you silently thanking the universe you told your husband to give you head while asleep. It was going to be an exceptionally long shower & long night.

#nanami kento smut #kento nanami smut #nanami smut #kento smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #nanami kento #fanfic #fanfiction #anime #anime smut #anime fanfic

[asahicore]

we’ll always have this summer - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact pairing. sunghoon x fem!reader synopsis. Your mom ruins your summer plans by sending you to the equestrian center your grandmother owns in the south of France, wanting you to spend some time away from the city and take a break from your med studies. Although you’d been determined to spend the worst time ever there, you soon find out that maybe the cold but cute horse nerd next door who doesn’t want to talk to you might actually turn this summer into the best one of your life. genre. summer au, strangers to mutual dislike to friends to lovers ig, city girl x country boy type beat, mainly fluff and smut but also angst cause i love pain word count. 25.9k a/n. hi sisters i'm super excited to repost this, it was really fun rereading and editing it, and i hope that all of you who had enjoyed reading it last summer will still like it this time around and that those of you who hadn't read it will enjoy it now <3 i had also posted an sfw version, so if anyone would like that too, pls lmk! ok thats it let me know what u think love you bye

Sunghoon was going to have a very normal, uneventful summer. He would take a very much needed break from his studies and take care of the equestrian center he lives in, letting his parents take a breather and enjoy their summer. He’d wake up early and do everything he needed to, then spend the afternoon on horseback or sleeping in a random field. It’d be a routine his body is used to and likes, and he’d be able to let his worries go for a while. But then, you came along.

You, who’d had big plans for the summer. You, who should’ve been going on a two-week vacation with your friends to Mallorca as a treat for having aced your second-year medical school final exams and as a celebration for getting an internship in the hospital of your choice. You, who would’ve done nothing for those two weeks but sunbathe, read trashy romance novels, and get margarita-drunk at 2pm, and would’ve spent the rest of the summer hanging out with your friends in Paris, your home, and taking day trips to random French cities. This summer would be your last fun, carefree summer before you were thrown into real semi-adult life, and you were going to make the best of it. That’s what you had planned; to your utmost despair, your mom seemed to have other ideas in mind.

“We’ve gone over this a thousand times now, sweetie. You’re going. It’ll be good for you.”

“You know what will be good for me?” you say, close on her tail as you descend the stairs. “Relaxing and having fun with my friends for two weeks. Not cleaning horse manure and having to walk ten kilometers to get service.”

“It’ll be one or two kilometers at most, dear, not ten.” 

“Ugh!” you groan ostentatiously. Your mother only shoots you a don’t-be-so-dramatic look. You glare back at her.

“It’ll be good for you,” she repeats, turning back to whatever was occupying her in the kitchen before you started arguing with her as you plop down on one of the stools at the center island. “You’ve seen neither your grandmother nor the countryside in ages, so it’ll be a nice change. What’s more, they say the best doctors are the ones who’ve done different jobs, you know.”

“Who’s ever said that…” you mutter under your breath, a clear look of distaste on your face. “But anyway, I see Mamie every Christmas at Auntie’s in Perpignan, and even if I didn’t, whose fault is it I never go to the countryside? You never bring me there.”

Your mother lifts her head and looks at you. “I’m too busy to make the journey all the way there. You’ve seen it, there’s two trains and two buses, I can’t do all that. Which is why we settle for Marseille. Direct train, easy. You, on the other hand,” she says, pointing to you with her wooden spoon, “will have plenty of time this summer.”

“Yeah, time I could’ve spent on a beach in Spain or with my friends here!” You know you’re being annoying, but you can’t help it. You really want to go to Mallorca.

She sighs. “I just need you to trust me on this one, honey. You’ll have tons of other summers to do all that. Your grandmother is getting old, so I want you to have at least some memories with her before… you know. I know it’s our fault you didn’t see her more often, so this is our way of making up for it!”

Your father walks in the kitchen, materializing out of nowhere as he often does. “Your mother’s right, you know.” They both peer down at you, and you know then you really don’t get a say in this. “I had an amazing bond with my grandfather, and I want for you to have something similar with your grandmother. She’s the only grandparent you’ve got left, and I promise you, you don’t want to let that go to waste.” You still don’t look fully convinced, so he adds, “Plus, you already get along well, right? You always talk lots when you see each other at Christmas.”

Your father does have a point. You know the problem isn’t being with your grandmother, anyway. Truth be told, you were quite looking forward to spending more time with her. She had a great sense of fashion, and you were sure she had many stories to tell you. It was the fact that you had to spend your summer in a godforsaken town of Southern France where the nearest town was seven kilometers away and the nearest city almost a forty-minute drive. Where you lived in Paris, you had everything you needed in a five-minute walk radius, and you just needed to hop on the Metro or the train to go anywhere else. And it was an equestrian center, of all places. You didn’t even like horses.

“Also,” your mother starts, dragging out the vowel, “the family that lives in the house next door has a boy your age. I heard he’s cute.” She wiggles her eyebrows and you groan at her, which just makes your parents laugh more. You don’t want to stereotype, but you highly doubt a boy who lives in an equestrian center in the middle of God-knows-where is anywhere as handsome as the boys you see everywhere in the capital city. Hot people live in cities; to you, that’s always been a fact.

And as if a stupid boy could make this any better anyway.

-

Your mother wasn’t lying when she said the journey was long. You took the Metro from your apartment to the train station, then a rapid train to Perpignan, a regional train to Argelès, and a bus to the town of Laroque-des-Albères. And that wasn’t even it - there could’ve been a second bus, but your grandmother had arranged for the neighbors’ son to come and pick you up and drive you to the small commune named La Pierrerie where the equestrian center was. 

To your dismay, there was another thing your mother had been right about; the neighbors’ son being cute. When you get off the bus, you look around the almost empty parking spot with no idea of who you’re supposed to look for. But he must see your lost expression and all your luggage and assume you’re the one he had come to pick up, so he calls out your name. Your head snaps towards the direction of the voice, and the moment your eyes settle on him, you have to hold yourself from gaping at him like a dead fish. For someone who supposedly spends his weekends and vacations outside, taking care of horses, cleaning stalls and doing handiwork, his features are… delicate. The perfect blend of sharp and soft - a round face contrasted by a knifelike jaw, plump lips, his eyebrows forming a straight line over his almond-shaped eyes. But you find roughness on his face is in the crease of his eyebrows as he peers down at you. You haven’t done anything yet, but he already clearly disapproves of you.

There’s a scowl on his face - he may be pretty, but he’s definitely not welcoming. You walk towards him, dragging your luggage behind you, and he doesn’t move to help you until you reach the car, and finally he opens the trunk and hauls one of your suitcase in. 

“Thank you,” you breathe, looking up at him, “um?”

A beat passes as your eyes lock, and he looks so bored you think he might not even bother to give you his name, but thank God he does. “Sunghoon.”

You decide not to let his rudeness get to you and put on a bright smile, but by the time you’re done saying “nice to meet you,” he’s already gotten in the driver’s seat. He starts the car without another word, and your efforts at any sort of conversation are so fruitless that you give up after two minutes of asking questions that are only met with two-word sentences. You can only hope that his family isn’t as unfriendly as he is, otherwise you’d be in for one hell of a summer.

When you arrive in La Pierrerie, it’s almost nine p.m., and you’re exhausted from your long journey and from carrying around such heavy suitcases. Still in complete silence, Sunghoon takes two of your bags and heads towards what you can only assume is your grandmother’s house. You go to follow him, but you soon notice your grandmother and another woman, who you guess is Sunghoon’s mother, sitting at a table, sipping on some lemonade. As soon as they see you arrive, they rush towards you (well, the woman does - your grandmother walks as fast as she can), helping you with the rest of your baggage. They kiss you on both cheeks as a greeting, starting from the right but you’re used to starting from the left, which almost makes your lips bump into each other. Thankfully, they laugh it off, and you make sure to remember the local custom to avoid future potentially awkward encounters.

The woman introduces herself as Mrs Park and tells you she lived next-door to your grandmother, just like you’d guessed. She says that she’s happy to meet you and hopes that you had a nice trip and that you weren’t too tired for the meal she and your grandmother had prepared for tonight. You like her instantly - her kind eyes and warm smile make you feel at home right away. 

Your grandmother hugs you too, and you had to admit it felt nice seeing her after such a long time. Such a sweet welcome revives you a bit, and a nagging voice in your head tells you, see, this isn’t that bad, this summer might be good after all, but you quickly shut it down. Your stubborn nature wants you to hate this for at least a little bit, especially after the excruciating car ride you just had to sit through. You won’t show it to your hosts, obviously, because you want to be respectful, but you can at least scowl and curse your parents when nobody’s looking.

There’s no time for awkward silence and looking back and forth between the two women because as soon as the greetings are over, Mrs Park announces she’ll go heat up the food and get the last things ready while your grandmother shows you around her home, which would be yours for the next two months and a half, and lets you unpack for a bit.

Your grandmother’s house is on two floors. The ground floor is basically one big room, which the front door leads directly into. There’s the kitchen, the dining room and the living room. It’s all very open and bright, and you can tell it must be very warm when the sunlight poured directly through the large windows into the room at the right time of day. It’s simply decorated, with furniture that probably hasn’t been updated in a while but that is well maintained and looks cozy enough. Black-and-whites and photographs of fuzzy quality are hung on the wall of the dining room and you’re eager to take a closer look at them later on.

Upstairs are two bedrooms and the bathroom, as well as a mezzanine that’s a few steps lower than the rest of the floor and that looks over the living room. This is where your grandmother keeps her books and her trophies from her past very successful horse riding career. There are a couple armchairs in the corner and a window to bring more light in, and you’re sure this would make an amazing reading nook for late evenings or stormy afternoons. 

Your room is not much more than a double bed, a chest of drawers, a cupboard to hang your clothes in and a few empty shelves. Your grandmother had told you you were welcome to bring any kind of decoration you wanted to make this room yours for the summer, so you’d taken with you a few posters and framed pictures as well as some babbles you liked looking at. She’d picked out some daisies from her garden and made a bouquet out of them, livening up the vase on your bedside table. 

She sits on your bed as you put your clothes away (which you had brought so many of, you weren’t sure there’d be enough room to put them all in) and tells you how she’d come to live here with the Parks. This is something you like about her - she has many stories to tell, each more fascinating than the other, and she’s always willing to tell them.

Your grandmother had actually grown up not too far from here, on the other side of town. Her parents had signed her up for lessons every Wednesday afternoon for a few years, until her instructor recognised her potential and told her she could ride professionally if she wanted. So, she started having two-hour lessons four times a week. When she started winning local, then regional, then national championships, she moved to Perpignan to be taught by more qualified instructors in a more renowned riding club.

Years forward, she got pregnant and her career as a rider was over. When her kids were old enough, she got a job as an instructor and even managed a few athletes of the club in Perpignan, but she continued to visit her old club in Laroque once in a while, as she always did throughout her career. She’d seen it wear down and lose customers over the years to the point that at the end of the nineties, it was under threat of closing down. Her old teacher had long passed and her son and his wife had taken over. This son, who was a bit older than your grandmother, had worked there his whole life, but it wasn’t what he wanted to do - as the only son, he’d had no choice but to stay and take care of the club. However, he hadn’t wanted it to close that way, and he was still desperate to keep the club alive, especially because his own son truly loved it and wanted to take over and manage it once he was done with high school.

Your grandmother, with more money than she needed from her successful career and the inheritance she got from her husband’s passing, offered to buy the club from the Parks and manage its finances while they took care of the horses and of lessons. Her only condition was that she could move in in the other house on the property that wasn’t inhabited and needed a few renovations. They agreed immediately.

Mr Park graduated from high school in 1998, got married to the now Mrs Park in 2000, and they had their first child, Sunghoon, in 2002 - the same year as you. His parents moved out to the city and got new jobs that they liked a lot more while the club, thanks to your grandmother’s donations and Mr and Mrs Park’s hard work, prospered once again. It did help that an Olympic rider sometimes helped out with lessons and gave out advice for aspiring athletes.

And now, here you are, twenty years later, visiting her for the first time since you were probably six. You don’t have many memories from those few times you’d been here, so it was all new to you. Especially that Sunghoon boy, whom your grandmother was sure you would get along with based on how chummy you were back in 2008. When you were both six. You didn’t have the heart to tell her how he had been with you in the car.

“Sunghoon’s a bit shy, but once you get to know him, he’s a really good kid. Very passionate and hardworking. So is his sister Yeji, but she’s got different ambitions,” your grandmother muses.

“Oh yeah? What does she want to do?” you ask, genuinely interested, as you try to somehow fit another t-shirt into one of the drawers. You’d started out by folding them nicely but you’d soon given up and started stashing them into the corners.

“She wants to become a professional rider. Says she wants to become like me,” she explains with a small chuckle. “Well, she’s definitely got what it takes. I got her a spot in that bigger club in Perpignan I told you about, so she goes there after school twice a week, but she still trains here with me every weekend.”

“You give her lessons?” you ask, some surprise in your voice, which makes your grandmother laugh.

“What, you think I’m too old?” she jokes and you shake your head rapidly, but she doesn’t take any offense to it. “I can’t stand for hours and shout like I used to, but I can sit in the center of the riding hall and watch, then tell her what she needs to work on and what she’s doing well. She says it helps her, so I’m happy to do it,” she adds with a shrug. You nod as you open another drawer and decide this one will be for your underwear.

“What about Sunghoon?” You can’t help but ask, a bit curious about him. You doubted you could really chalk up his impoliteness to shyness, but you could still listen to what your grandmother had to say about him.

“He’s more like his dad, wants to take after the club. But he’s a very decent rider, too. If his sister hadn’t said she wanted to go pro so early on, I’m sure he would’ve. You know one thing that’s great about getting old?” she asks suddenly.

“No?”

“You observe people a lot more, and you understand them a lot more too. Well, now that I think about it, it might be just me,” she says, making you chuckle. “I don’t have a lot going on in my life, so I have more time to be nosy and see what others are up to. He’d never admit it, I don’t think, that he gave up on a potential riding career for his sister. He’s the type to make quiet sacrifices, and he loves his sister to death. He’d rather take over the club and watch her be happy than the opposite.”

You nod, an approving expression on your face. “Sounds like a good guy,” you say honestly, surprised that someone supposedly so kind could also be so rude.

“He is. Handsome, as well, by the way, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” she adds, a knowing smile playing on her lips, but you just roll your eyes playfully.

“That’s what mom said,” you reply, not wanting to admit that they are both right on the matter of Sunghoon’s handsomeness. 

Sunghoon’s the one who opens the door when you and your grandmother knock. His expression when he sees you is the same as earlier, but you don’t have the time to ponder over his behavior, because quickly enough, two figures appear behind him. He steps to the side, letting enough space for you to come in, his harsh gaze never once leaving your face. You turn your attention to the figures, namely his father and a young girl who you guess is Yeji, and, thank God, they’re looking at you with wide smiles.

“You must be Y/N!” his father beams, and you nod, returning his smile and saying hi. He kisses you on both cheeks, and this time you remember to start from the right. “Welcome. We’re very happy to have you here, aren’t we, Sunghoon?”

He seems oblivious to his son’s clear distaste of you as he loops an arm over his shoulders, happily shaking one of them under his grasp. “Right,” Sunghoon says, voice monotone. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply with a slightly confused tone - what the hell was his deal? Usually, whatever energy someone gave you, you’d give it back to them. You’d have no problem being as rude to Sunghoon as he was to you if only his family didn’t seem so nice.

“I’ll go help Mom in the kitchen,” he announces and walks away. His father turns back to you and gives you an apologetic smile.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just shy. He’ll warm up to you eventually.” You nod, saying it’s okay. 

Yeji then takes a step towards you, introducing herself as she goes in for the usual two kisses on the cheeks. “Hi, I’m Yeji!”

“Hi, so nice to meet you!”

“Me too, I’m really happy you’re here! It’ll be nice being with another girl,” she says, gesturing towards her oblivious brother with a tilt of her head. It takes a lot more effort to be nice than to be rude, you think, side-eyeing Sunghoon in your head.

“Are there not a lot of girls that come here for lessons?” you ask as she leads you inside the house, showing you where to take off your shoes and jumper.

“There are, but they only come here once a week and stay for a few hours, so it’s not the same. I’m stuck with my anthropoid of a brother most of the time,” she says, lowering her voice to make sure only you can hear what she says. You both laugh at her diss; nothing like bonding over hating boys with another girl. You can already tell you’re going to like her.

You ask if there’s anything you can do to help, but the Parks tell you to not worry about anything and sit down. You and Yeji join your grandmother who’s already sitting at the dinner table, and the three of you chat, or rather, you and Yeji chat while your grandmother listens. Or maybe she isn’t listening, you’re not sure. 

Yeji is in her first year of high school. The prestigious riding club she is being taught at doubles as a school, so that’s where she’s been studying for the past few years, and she boards there as well, coming home every weekend unless she’s got important competitions coming up, in which case she stays there for a few weeks. Competition season is about to start, so she’ll be spending most of her time there this summer.

“And do you like it there?”

She looks slightly taken aback by your question, as if she’s not quite used to being asked about that. “I mean, yeah, yeah, I do. It’s nice being able to ride so often, and not having the stress of needing to figure out what I want to do next. But it is… you know,” her voice gets quieter, “a lot of pressure sometimes.”

Sunghoon walks in then, plates and cutlery in hand, and starts setting the table. Yeji’s face lights up at her brother’s arrival, using it to change the topic. “Sunghoon is studying to become a vet. He’s finished his two years of preparatory classes, so now he’s going to a vet school in Toulouse.”

He glares at his sister, but she doesn’t pay him any mind. “He graduated top of his class, you know.”

“Why are you telling her about me?” he interrupts.

Yeji just shrugs. “I’m telling her about us.”

“Well,” he says, putting down a plate in front of you and a fork and knife on each side of the plate, “she doesn’t need to know about me.” You can’t see his face but the cold tone of his voice and his presence right behind you are enough to send shivers down your spine. What the hell is his deal?, you wonder.

You look at Yeji, a confused look on your face, and she rolls her eyes as a dismissal of her older brother’s behavior. “Don’t ask me, cause I don’t know what his problem is, either,” she says, and you can’t help but chuckle.

Mrs and Mr Park walk in then, bringing in the main dish of duck confit as well as roast potatoes, vegetables and some bread. Mrs Park gives you the biggest chunk of meat and a load of sides, saying you must be famished after such a long trip even though you tell her you’d brought things to snack on. She says she’d hesitated between cooking Korean food or a typical French Southwestern dish but had opted for the latter, wanting to welcome you properly in the region. You thanked her and told her it looked amazing.

When everyone is served, you wish each other ‘bon appétit’ and start eating. You’re chewing on your first mouthful of duck and potatoes when Mrs Park asks you what you study. “Your grandmother said you were a med student?” she asks with a smile. Everyone looks at you except for Sunghoon, who only has eyes for his food.

You nod, waiting to swallow before answering, and Mr Park tuts his wife for not letting you eat. “I am. I passed my second year,” you say, earning yourself some congratulations, “and I’m starting my residency in a hospital in Paris next semester.”

“Do you know what part of the hospital you’ll be in?” Mr Park asks.

“We get to do turns, so we can see what we like. We give our school our top five choices, and then they put us in three departments for three months each, and then choose our favorite one based on the offers we get for the summer. I’m in the children’s ward first, then cardiology, then reeducation. We’ll also get to watch over surgeries.”

He nods, humming at your words. “And is that what you want to do later? I mean, work in one of those departments?”

“I’ve got time to change my mind, so I guess it depends how much I like being at the hospital, but I think I’d rather have my own cabinet after some time. I feel like overtime, you build more of a relationship with people, and it’s a lot less stressful, too,” you add with a chuckle.

Mr Park smiles and nods again. “Ah, I see. That’s nice. And would that be in Paris?,” he asks, and this time, it’s his wife that tells him to leave you alone, but you say it’s okay.

“Probably. It’s the city I know best, but nothing is set in stone.”

“You should come here!” Mrs Park perks. “Most people who live here are quite old - no offense, Nadine - ” (“None taken,” your grandmother says with a smile), but we’ve only got two doctors, and one is probably retiring in the next six to ten years.”

“You tell me to leave her alone, and then you tell her to move here,” Mr Park mutters, earning himself a small slap on the arm. They start bickering, and your grandmother just sighs and shakes her head.

“Young love,” she says, making everyone laugh. Even Sunghoon cracks a smile, and you get a glimpse of his dimples. As soon as he catches your gaze, his smile drops, and you turn your eyes away, your cheeks heating up. Yeji starts a new topic and soon enough you’re all chatting again. If it wasn’t for Sunghoon making it very clear he didn’t want you here, you’d already feel at home, just sitting at this dinner table.

When dinner is over, you insist on clearing the table and doing the dishes, saying you felt bad not doing anything. “I need to earn my keep,” you tell Mrs Park with a smile.

She laughs and says, “Oh, no need to worry about that, with Sunghoon showing you the ropes the next few days, you definitely will.”

Sunghoon perks up at the mention of his name. “What’s this about?” he asks, that crease still in his eyebrows. You find yourself wanting to stroke them with your thumbs and brush that frown away, but you quickly snap out of it. He may have a pretty face, but from what you’ve seen, that’s about all there is.

Mrs Park lets out a small puff of air through her nose. “We’ve talked about this, dear. You’re showing Y/N around the club tomorrow and Monday. It’s so you know how everything works before summer lessons start,” she explains, turning towards you.

“Why does it have to be me, though?” Sunghoon almost whines, and you want to scoff at him.

“Because your father and I said so,” his mother says, ending the conversation there, and you’re reminded of your own parents.

Sunghoon looks at you and frowns, so you raise your eyebrows back at him. It wasn’t your fault you were here or that his parents had designated him to show you around, so there was no reason you should make yourself small or apologetic for him. He scoffs and looks away. “Just be outside by eight a.m. tomorrow morning, okay?”

He doesn’t let you answer, just gives you one last hard look and walks away.

-

“Why are you wearing a dress?” Sunghoon asks as soon as you step outside the next morning.

“Good morning to you too, Sunghoon,” you reply sarcastically. You roll your eyes when he doesn’t say anything, just stands there, arms crossed over his chest, so you add, “Because it’s going to be hot today. And because it’s pretty.”

“This is an equestrian center, not a fashion show. You won’t be comfortable. Go put on a t-shirt and some shorts or some leggings. And wear sneakers, not sandals, Christ.”

You scoff and mirror his posture. “You don’t get to tell me what to wear, you know.”

He lets out a dry chuckle and rolls his eyes, a disbelieving smile on his face. “This might be a holiday for you, because it’s sunny and there’s nature everywhere, but this is work we’re gonna be doing. So, for your own sake, wear the right kind of clothes. But if you want to get horse saliva on your dress or step in horse shit wearing those shoes, be my guest.”

You glare at him for a few seconds, realizing that he’s right, and huff out an annoyed “fine,” stomping back into your grandmother’s house. “Be quick!” he calls after you.

You come back out five minutes later, wearing a tank top you usually use for sleeping, a pair of denim shorts and old sneakers your mother had told you to pack. “Took you long enough,” Sunghoon says, a true ray of sunshine, but you decide it’s better to ignore him. He barely talked to you yesterday, but now that it’s just the two of you and he has to, his words are somehow more annoying than his silence.

You stare at him unfazed and ask, “So, what’s first?”

He raises his eyebrows, seemingly surprised, but answers anyway. “Right. Follow me.” He heads towards a part of the farm that is attached to the riding hall and that your grandmother had pointed out yesterday evening as the reception and office area. 

Sunghoon fishes a keyholder out of his jean pocket and slides open the door using one of the many keys he has. He goes to stand in front of a postboard and points to it. “This has the daily and weekly schedule on it. It’s a routine, so things don’t change much, but when they do, we add a post-it to the board. For example, the blacksmith is coming next Thursday to check horseshoes. That’s a post-it. Today, we’re cleaning out all the stalls and adding fresh straw. We do that every Monday, so it’s on the schedule. No post-it.”

“Right. That makes sense,” you nod. “Is that all we do today?”

“We do rounds first, but basically, yeah, because cleaning takes a long time. And Monday is technically our day off. No one comes in for lessons so we use that free time to clean out the stalls.”

You nod and Sunghoon chuckles at you, but you don’t have time to question him about it because he’s already off and you have no choice but to follow him. He leads you to a part of the farm on the other side of the courtyard and pulls out another key, pushing the door open to a wide three-and-a-half-wall room with rings attached to the walls every few meters. Three and a half because behind that space on each side are stalls, as Sunghoon points out.

“This is the prep room, where we get the horses ready before a lesson.”

“What do you do to get them ready?” you ask, looking around the room.

“You clean their coat and their hooves, brush out any tangles in their manes and tails, then saddle and bridle them. The club saddlery is over there,” he says, pointing to a door on your right. “Horse owners have their own stuff in lockers in another room.”

Apparently, you’re not checking out the saddlery today, because Sunghoon is already walking over to the stalls. 

“Hi everyone,” he greets softly. You follow him closely as he walks on one side of the stables, petting each horse as he walks past them or peering over the door to see how the sleeping ones are doing, and then does the same thing on the other side. He greets each horse by name, and even though it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he remembers each and every one of them, it still does. You tell him exactly that, and he chuckles.

“What would you think of a teacher that doesn’t know their students’ names? This is kind of the same,” he explains. He shows you the stacks of hay and straw at the end of the stables, and explains that they bring it here from the fields every once in a while because it’s more convenient, and that this is what you’ll be using later.

When he’s checked that everything is okay, he opens the door on the other side of the room leading outside. On your right stands a huge pile of manure, and you can’t help but make a stank face at the odor hitting you right in the nostrils. Sunghoon chuckles again (can he please stop chuckling at you for no reason?) and reassures you by saying they’re emptying it soon. “The farmers use it for their crops,” he explains.

On your left, there’s another barn that you guess hosts more horses. He gets out yet another key and pushes the door wide open. Light fills the barn instantly, making the dust particles in the air visible, and you hear a few grunts and huffs from the horses - of annoyance at Sunghoon waking them up or of happiness at seeing him, you’re not yet qualified enough to say.

There are two other smaller, one-sided stables next to the riding hall where he takes you and does his rounds again. When he’s all done, you follow him to the riding hall where he opens two doors on each side, that way you can walk through it to get to the pastures in the back rather than walk around the whole center, and takes down the electric cables that serve as an entrance to the pastures. He doesn’t explain any of this, however, so you sort of have to guess. Wordlessly, you head back to the last stables you were in and there, he throws a bunch of what you think are harnesses at you.

“What are these?” you ask dumbly, looking at the thing in your hand.

“They’re halters,” he says, and when you just stare wordlessly, he adds, talking as if it were obvious, “you put them around the horse’s head so you can take them places?”

“Right. Can you show me how to put one on?”

He sighs but obliges; he doesn’t have much of a choice anyway. Not your fault that he’s lived here all his life whereas you’ve encountered a horse maybe three times in your twenty years of life. 

He demonstrates how to put a halter on and watches over you as you practice it on an old and tired-looking white horse. When you manage to do it somehow quickly, he says, “there you go,” and you’re surprised to not hear any sarcasm in his voice. However, when he pats the horse’s forehead, you have a feeling the praise was more directed towards her than you.

You walk side-by-side to the pastures, you with the white horse, whose garrot reaches your shoulder, and Sunghoon leading a small pony in each hand. They have to walk quickly to keep up with his strides and you can’t help but laugh at their cute swaying hips.

“How old is she?” you ask Sunghoon, head tilting towards the horse you’re walking with.

A soft smile cracks on Sunghoon’s lips, perhaps the first smile you’ve seen on him today. “That’s Nellie,” he answers quietly, looking at the horse in question. “She’s turning 20 this December. We were only born a few days apart.”

“Wow, so you grew up together, that’s pretty cool,” you say honestly, and Sunghoon’s eyes settle on you for a few seconds, eyebrows raising a bit as if surprised by your words. 

“Yeah, it is,” he says, looking back in front of him. “My parents taught me how to horse ride with her. And she’s the only horse that belongs to the club whose papers actually state that I’m her owner. All the others have my parents’ name or the club’s on theirs.”

“Ah, so she’s your horse,” you say, looking at Nellie and smiling. You’d have imagined a much taller, handsome and dark-haired horse for him, but this somehow matches as well. It makes Sunghoon appear sweeter, for some reason.

“Yeah,” he says simply, but you don’t miss the small smile on his lips. So maybe there is a way to get to know Park Sunghoon, you think.

Once in the pastures, he shows you how to release a horse safely in case they get excited about being outside and hurt you accidentally or run away. Thankfully, these horses know better than to do that sort of stuff, so it’s very unlikely that anything will happen, he explains, but you’re always better safe than sorry. You head back to the stables in a silence a bit less awkward than before and do the same things with the three other horses in those stables. Not much is said, but you don’t want to force the conversation. He just explains to you that these few horses work well together in the pastures, but that it’s not always this easy.

“Horses have a herd instinct, so they need to be with each other, but also not with anyone. You know how wolf packs have alphas and betas and stuff?” he asks, and you nod. Your friends and you had an obsessive Teen Wolf phase when you were in middle school. “Well, horses kind of have that too, because there’s a hierarchy in their herds. So there’s usually one leader, a mare, and some others that just get along.”

“How do you know which horses get along, though?”

“You just have to observe. You can tell pretty quickly which horses are going to have a leader or a follower type personality. Just put two leaders together, and they’ll clash instantly. It can get pretty bad pretty quick, so the first few times you put certain horses together outside, you really have to watch over them and be careful.”

“That’s so interesting,” you say after a few moments. “I never knew horses to have such complex relationships,” you say, and he smiles.

“Horses are really cool,” he says, and immediately grunts. “That was such a loser thing to say.”

You can’t help but laugh at his self-realization, but quickly reassure him. “No, it’s not. It’s something you’re passionate about, of course you’re gonna find them cool,” you say, and the smile he gives you as an answer shouldn’t make your heart beat that much faster, but it does, and you don’t know how to feel about that. You’re just glad he’s being nice to you - bare minimum, but still, a small victory.

“Time for the hard part, now,” he says when all five horses are happy in the pasture. You follow him to a toolshed where they keep tools, of course, but also two empty wheelbarrows and snacks for the horses like grains, carrots and salt blocks. He tells you to grab a shovel as he rolls out a wheelbarrow and you head back to the stalls together.

There’s nothing complex about shoveling dirty hay and horse shit into a wheelbarrow, but by God is it a draining task. The shovel itself is heavy, so having to pick all that stuff up, heave it back into the cart, and then repeat for who knows how many times is a real burden on your poor back and arms. You definitely let Sunghoon know how hard this is for you, what with all the sighs and loud breaths and grunts you’re letting out. You’ve barely finished cleaning one stall out when Sunghoon is starting his third, and you can tell he’s not happy about it.

“If you complained less, you’d work faster, you know,” he says, that scowl back on his face.

“I can’t help that I’ve never done anything like this in my life,” you chide back, out-of-breath and wiping some sweat from your forehead.

“Yeah? All the hard tasks usually done for you, princess?”

His scowl turns into a small smirk as he looks at you, and you curse your heart for doing a flip when he chuckles at your dumbfoundedness. It’s just a stupid nickname, you tell yourself, no need to get so worked up over it.

“I’ve never had any hard tasks like this in the first place,” you say, moving on to the second stall. “My body isn’t made for it.”

“Well, it’ll have to get used to it.” Yesterday, his mother had also told you you’d get used to it, as a way of reassuring you; but Sunghoon’s words are a far cry from his mother’s, and are more of a threat than anything.

Another few minutes and you’re done, Sunghoon watching you as you finish cleaning your designated stall. You dump everything at the manure pile, then head to the straw pile and fill the wheelbarrow to replace the dirty straw with fresh one in the stalls. And then, you only have to do that four more times. Easy enough, right?

No. Not easy.

The only semi-easy part is taking the horses out of their stalls and tying the rope that are attached to their halter to a ring in the prep room, except some horses are less compliant than others and you end up having to call Sunghoon a couple times so he can take care of them for you.

The whole time you’re heaving manure into the wheelbarrow, you’re complaining. At first, it was the stank that had really gotten to you - as one can imagine, hay infused with horse piss and shit doesn’t smell like fresh linen. But somehow, you got used to it - maybe the physical exertion forced you to forget about the smell and focus on the pain taking over your whole body. 

You huff and puff as you feel the heavy weight of the shovel in your arms and shoulders every time you need to lift it up and bring it back down. The pain in your upper back from years of carrying your backpack on one shoulder makes itself known, and after half an hour you’re whining that you can feel muscle scores coming in your whole body.

“They’ll probably stay for a whole week too,” you mumble to yourself, but still loud enough for Sunghoon to hear.

“You’ll get used to it, I told you. In a few weeks this will feel like nothing.” When you only grunt in response, he adds: “I usually do this on my own, you know. You’re lucky you’re only doing half of the work. Or more like one fourth, with the speed you’re going at.”

“Why don’t your parents or sister help you out?” you ask as you lean against the stall wall, using the distraction of a conversation to take a break.

“My parents already work all week when I’m not there, giving lessons and taking care of the club, so it’s the least I can do to help out on weekends and during my breaks. And my sister already works hard enough at her school so I want her to relax when she’s here,” he replies, never stopping his shoveling.

“But you work hard too, don’t you? I mean, your sister said you were top of your class. You should get a break too.”

His movements halt for a split second only. If your words have any sort of impact on Sunghoon, he doesn’t want to let you know.

“I just study hunched over my desk all week. It’s nice to do something physical, and I don’t mind the time alone.” You’re not sure whether this is an excuse he’s come up with for himself or if he’s telling the truth, but his tone is so final and you understand that he’s done with the conversation, so you pick up your shovel and get back to work. You don’t complain for the rest of the morning.

When you’re finally done with the stalls, you bring back the horses you had walked to the pastures so that others can enjoy the free space and green grass. That’s when you run into an obstacle.

No matter how much you pull, coax, or stare impatiently, this horse won’t budge. Sunghoon rests his back and one foot against the plastic half-wall of the riding hall, chuckling at how awfully you and Dona are getting on. He’s already brought back the other five horses to their stalls and has nothing better to do than be useless, apparently. 

After a few minutes of you trying to negotiate with Dona, to no avail, Sunghoon finally speaks up, just loud enough for you to hear. “Stop staring at her. Horses get nervous when you stare too much.”

You scoff. “But she won’t move! I’m trying to show her the desperation in my eyes!” you shout back, and turn to the horse who only peers at you with empty black eyes.

“Don’t shout. Horses don’t like it when you shout,” Sunghoon simply answers, propping himself off of the wall and taking his sweet time walking towards you. When he reaches you and Dona, he takes the tether from your hands and says, “C’mon, Dona,” without even looking at the horse, who immediately follows, no questions asked.

You stand there dumbfounded and mouth O-shaped as you watch the two of them stride away calmly, running after Sunghoon when your shock dissipates. “Don’t run,” he says when he hears your quickly approaching footsteps, “horses don’t like it when you run.”

“My God,” you say, already out of breath, “how many things do horses not like?”

“Quite a few,” he answers matter-of-factly, although you meant your question more rhetorically than anything.

“How did you do that, anyways?” you ask when your breathing returns to normal.

“Well, mainly, it’s just because she knows me and knows to listen to me,” he explains, turning his head just a bit to look at you as you walk back to the main stables, the sun making itself shy behind the tall trees even though it’s nearing midday. A warm breeze blows, sweeping your ponytail to the side and rustling the leaves on the trees. “But also, horses need to be told what to do, not asked. Your attitude needs to be, ‘we’re going back now,’ not, ‘hey, wanna go back?’” You nod slowly at first, then faster when the words start making sense in your head. Sunghoon wants to make fun of you but finds it sweet that you’re at least trying to understand.

“Right,” you say after a few moments. “It’s not very nice, though,” you add, causing Sunghoon to tilt his head and frown his brows, silently asking you to go on. “Well, I’m sure Dona would like a say in the matter.”

He once again contains his laughter because you look so serious and he doesn’t want to make you feel bad, but ultimately fails and snorts at your comment, making you look up at him, bewilderment written all over your face. “What? I’m being serious!”

“I know you are,” he chuckles, “but don’t worry, Dona doesn’t mind having to go home. And if it was up to her, she’d stay out all night.” 

Sunghoon tells you some anecdotes about the club and its occupiers on your way back, making you giggle at some of the mischievous things the horses have gotten up to. He’s more talkative than this morning which takes you slightly aback, but you’re not going to complain about the change. You were dreading having to spend your summer annoyed at a cute boy you’d have to see every day, so you’re glad his first impression is drastically different from what he’s actually like.

You and Sunghoon part ways a bit before noon, and you plop down on the couch as soon as you get to your grandmother’s house. “Tough morning, huh?,” she calls from the kitchen. You only have enough energy left to hum a small “yes” back. She chuckles at you, then tells you to take a shower before having lunch. You spend the rest of your day sunbathing on a deckchair in the backyard, taking some time to relax before what you’re sure will be a tiring week.

-

One thing you learn during that week and the weeks after that is that Sunghoon has his fair share of fangirls. As a female-dominated hobby, most of the club members are teenage girls who love horses and cute boys.

Tuesday morning before lessons start, he shows you basic things like how to properly groom a horse and how to put their saddles and bridles (which is actually a lot harder than it looks - putting your thumb in a horse’s mouth seems a bit counterintuitive), just in case you ever need to get a horse ready for whatever reason. You’re going to be here for two months, so might as well learn things like these. 

While you help him walk some horses to the pastures, he explains that summer lessons are different in that instead of learners coming once or twice a week, they come all day from Tuesday to Friday and then pass an exam on Saturday morning if they want to. Since both his mother and father teach, they’re able to have two separate groups, one for riders who come for more laidback lessons with games and walks in the fields nearby, and one for those who want to improve their skills in an intense week of both practical and theoretical lessons.

There isn’t much you can do on your own, so after you’ve gone around the stables giving grains to the horses that need them, you join Sunghoon outside in the courtyard as he cleans and greases some saddles and bridles that are starting to wear out. It’s fairly easy to do and he lets you help out, so you sit outside together in silence, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face. That is, until you start noticing the girls.

You don’t want to pay them any attention, but what with the way they wave shyly at Sunghoon and giggle when he waves back, a smile you can’t describe as anything but dazzling adorning his lips, it’s impossible not to. Some of them even call out his name, saying “hi” in the sweetest way they can. You don’t blame them: had you been fifteen and seen a boy as pretty as Sunghoon, you probably would’ve acted similarly, especially if you got to see him on a regular basis. 

What gets on your nerves, however, is how much Sunghoon enjoys it: you can tell by the smirk that won’t leave his face the whole time or the way he makes them all swoon by remembering their names. Bare minimum, you think to yourself once again, but you don’t say anything. Even if slightly infuriating, it’s also entertaining, seeing Sunghoon enjoy himself this way. You would’ve thought he was the type to want to be by himself at all times, unbothered by anyone, yet here he was, blushing at all the attention he was receiving.

After a girl who had come up to him (sparing you a confused “hi” when she saw your unfamiliar face but quickly turning her attention back to Sunghoon), wanting to know how his year at school had gone, skips giddily away, you can’t help but tease him.

“I can’t believe you’re liking this so much,” you say with a smile, keeping your attention on greasing the leather parts of the bridle.

Sunghoon looks up at you, a semi-offended look on his face. “I’m just being nice.”

“I didn’t know ‘just being nice’ entailed letting yourself be showered in compliments and winking at fifteen year-old girls. Aren’t you turning twenty?” 

“I’m not- I didn’t- Whatever,” he gives up, a pout on his face as he returns to work. You nudge his shoulder, making him crack a smile, and you feel like you won the Grand Prix of something.

Another thing you learn that week is that there’s a lot of going back and forth with Sunghoon. One minute he’s laughing at your jokes and acting like a normal human being, and the other he’s giving you the cold shoulder as if he suddenly doesn’t want you around anymore. Sometimes, these changes in his attitude are so quick, they give you whiplash.

You learn to not pay too much attention to these mood swings, not wanting to create any problems for yourself. He seems to be happy when you ask him about horses, so you often come up with the most random things you can think to ask, and he always patiently answers even the dumbest of questions. However, his patience is much quicker to run out when you complain about any task you’re given, so you settle on glaring at the back of his head.

Thankfully, you’re actually a lot less busy than you thought you would be. Your tasks consist mainly of cleaning the stalls, feeding the horses, and taking care of the ones who are too old or have some kind of illness and can’t be mounted. You bring them to the pastures, where they spend a lot of their time, then brush out the dirt and dust embedded in their fur after rolling around on the ground. These horses are often the most affectionate, gently nuzzling your hands when you try to clean their face and huffing happily when they see you arrive.

You do this a couple times a week and Sunghoon often joins you, bringing Nellie out and attaching the rope of her halter next to the horse you’re taking care of so he can groom her as well. These are the moments when he’s in his best mood and he lets you blabber away, talking about random things and concerns in your life as he listens and nods, sometimes sharing some of his as well, letting you take a peek into his closed-off world. You find that you have actually quite a lot in common, with you being in med school and him in vet school, which are both intense and high-pressure. Yet, there’s always something that’s quite surface-level about these conversations; students will always easily bond about the stress of deadlines and horrible professors. You want to dig deeper, but something tells you that Sunghoon will quickly shut you down, and you’re okay with waiting for a bit. You’re just glad he hasn’t been the way he was with you that first day the whole time and that he’s actually talking to you and even sending a smile your way once every now and then.

You also hang out with Yeji quite a lot. Even though she’s on her summer break, competition season means she spends four days a week at her boarding school to train and the other three days at the club, trying to enjoy her summer like any other normal high schooler as best as she can. She doesn’t say much more on how she feels about training so much, only slightly hinting at her level of stress and fatigue like she had done at the dinner table, and you can tell it’s a touchy subject, so you don’t pry.

It does take your body a few days to get used to being outside in the sun and walking around all day, so your first week at the club, you head home as soon as you’re done with your tasks and take a shower then help your grandmother with dinner, spending your evenings reading or playing Scrabble with her (she’s an impressive player, by the way, and has taught you many words). Every Sunday night, you have dinner with the Parks, although Mrs Park also sometimes urges you into her house at one p.m. with the promise of delicious food.

On your second Wednesday there, however, you feel like going out in the evening. After a really hot week, it had stormed during the night that made Tuesday turn into Wednesday which had made the air feel less heavy and more refreshing, so doing anything was a lot less energy-consuming than it had been before. It’s nine p.m. and the sun is low in the sky when you tell your grandmother you’re going to explore the property some more. You know there’s a path that goes behind the pastures to a forest and that is used for horse rides and walks, so you make your way there and follow it.

The mud is still a bit soft from all the rain of the night and morning and you can tell apart footsteps as well as hoof and dog paw prints. The trees on each side on the path are so full of leaves that they make a sort of arch overhead, barring any of the remaining sunlight from entering and casting a shadow all over, and you wish you’d have brought a thin jumper with you. It feels nice to be outside when the sun isn’t making you feel like your skin will melt right off of your body, though. 

You’ve been walking for about fifteen minutes, stopping here and there to look at a flower or snap a shot of the clouds you can see through the trees when you reach a clearing. It’s completely empty, the trees making way for a vast patch of just grass and small daisies, so of course you see him immediately.

A couple hundred meters away from where you’re standing is Sunghoon on a tall, ginger horse, galloping in circles. You don’t know much about horse riding, but you can tell that he knows what he's doing from the way he holds himself and directs the horse. His back is straight and his legs are pressed against the horse’s flanks, his hips moving in perfect synchronization with the horse’s strides so that he stays seated on its back rather than bounces like you’ve seen many less advanced riders do. The horse’s neck rounds and its head stays down, making its steps light and refined, and Sunghoon holds the reins long and low on each side of the horse’s garrot so he can gallop in a continuous circle.

The sight is breathtaking.

You’d always thought that horses had a certain grace to them, especially such tall and slim horses like the one right in front of you, and Sunghoon, with his perfect stance and control, somehow brought even more of that grace out. It was clear that it took a lot of work and talent to reach such elegance.

Although he seemed highly concentrated on what he was doing, Sunghoon noticed you after a minute of you standing there, all but gawking at him. You see him chuckle as he subtly changes his position on the horse and slows to a trot, heading towards you.

“Hey,” he calls out when you’re within hearing distance of each other. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just… taking a walk,” you say, pointing to the path behind you with your thumb but your gaze not leaving Sunghoon, still wearing an expression of astonishment on your face. “Sunghoon, that was- I mean, just, unlike anything I’ve ever seen. You looked amazing,” you say, unable to keep your honesty at bay. If the girls from the club had seen him ride like this, then you were definitely starting to understand why they were so smitten over him - you felt almost starstruck.

He chuckles again and looks down bashfully, hoping the dim light hides his growing blush from you. “Thanks. I wasn’t really doing anything special.”

“Not anything special, are you kidding? I’m serious, that was awesome. It was like- like a figure skater gliding, or like a ballet dancer doing turns or something,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

Your grin gets even wider when he lets out a giggle at your words, immediately covering his mouth with his palm when he hears the sound he’s made. He really does have a thing for being paid attention to and praised, you note.

“So you were just on a walk?” he asks awkwardly as a way of changing the subject, scratching the back of his head.

“I needed some fresh air, I guess. Plus, I’ve only been staying in the club, so I thought I’d take a walk around.”

“I can show you around when I’ve got time this week, if you want.” His offer seems to come as a surprise to the both of you, but you nod anyway, grateful for the extended hand.

“That’d be nice,” you say. You’re not sure what’s happening when you two stay there for a few seconds, just smiling shyly at each other, but you don’t hate it. 

“Have you ever been on a horse?” he asks, breaking the silence first.

“Well, just a couple times, but it wasn’t lessons or anything, so I don’t know if it counts- wait, wait, what are you doing?”

A sudden mischievous smile has made its way to Sunghoon’s features as he dismounts, bringing the horse next to you. “Wanna try, then?”

“No,” you say with a pointed look. “No way. That horse is taller than me, Sunghoon, I’m not getting on him.”

“Oh c’mon, I promise you it’s not scary, and I’ll be holding onto the reins the whole time. We can just walk back to the club like this.” His eyes are working hard to convince you, and his small pout makes what little resolve you had crumble.

“Fine. But you better not let go of that horse.”

“I won’t,” he says, and something about his tone makes your qualms dissipate.

You walk over to where he’s standing on the left hand side of the horse and hook your left foot in the stirrup. Sunghoon instructs you to place your hands on each end of the saddle and hoist yourself up. It requires a lot more arm strength than you’d have imagined after seeing so many riders do it effortlessly, but Sunghoon is there to help you up as soon as he sees you struggling, two strong hands coming up to hold you at the waist and lift you onto the horse. You tell yourself it’s the physical exertion and not his touch that renders you breathless.

“Wow,” you say when you look around you, almost two meters above ground.

“Pretty cool, isn’t it?”

A small giggle escapes your lips. “Yeah. Pretty cool.”

“How does it feel? Are you sitting okay? Here, I’ll change the stirrup length so they fit you. Or we can just cross them over the saddle, since you won’t really need them, anyway.”

“No, I’d rather wear them, please,” you say, and your slight anxious tone makes Sunghoon chuckle.

When he’s done adjusting the stirrups for you and made sure you’re comfortable, he shows you how to hold the reins properly and tells you how to get the horse to start walking. “We usually teach beginners that you knock your heels against their flanks, but because Flame has only been mounted by more advanced riders, he might not like that. Don’t panic,” he reassures as soon as he sees your eyes go wide, “just press your calves against him instead of using your heels. Here, see? I’m holding him by the front of the reins, so he won’t run off.”

“Right, right,” you breathe out. Sunghoon’s right there, so there’s no reason to stress about this.

“Good. Just a small pressure from your calves, and we’re good to go.”

Flame is very reactive, already started walking when you’ve barely squeezed your legs against him. With Sunghoon practically directing the horse for you, you realize there’s nothing for you to do but enjoy the ride.

“This feels nice,” you say as you try to get used to Flame’s quick but steady rhythm. Sunghoon’s smile is better than any other spoken answer he could’ve given you. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you decide to speak up.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” Sunghoon replies, looking up at you.

“Why were you so mean to me the first night I got here?”

He seems slightly taken aback by your question, but you get a glimpse of a guilty expression before he looks back down. “Right, sorry about that. I’ve kind of been feeling bad about it all week, but I was scared to bring it up.”

“It’s okay, I’m just curious about the sudden change is all,” you say.

“I just-” he starts, but then seems to think for a bit. “I’m not the best with strangers, for one. Plus, you were going to stay for the whole summer. I’ve built a routine for myself every summer here, and I don’t like it when something, or someone, disturbs my peace. Also, no offense, but I’m not a huge fan of you city folk. So many people at school have this weird prejudice against me for being from the middle of nowhere, so I’ve kind of got a low tolerance for them. So before I even met you, I didn’t really like you. Sorry, that’s harsh.”

You tell him not to worry about it. His words make you understand him a bit more, and you’re glad it doesn’t seem to be anything too personal against you. You tell him to go on and he sighs. “And you know, I talked with my parents and they told me it’ll be nice to have someone else around to help, and that your grandmother always talks highly of you, and that it was stupid to have decided in advance I wouldn’t like you, and I sort of agreed, but I couldn’t bring myself to be okay with it all. It’s like, we’ve been fine all this time, so why bring in someone new? My parents told me that technically this whole property belongs to your grandmother, and that she could bring anyone she wanted, and I couldn’t really say anything against that. But anyway, I told myself that if I just was cold and pretended you weren’t here, that it’d be fine. But then I- I saw you, and…” his words trail off here and he looks down as if embarrassed to say what comes next.

“And?” you pry, too curious not to.

You really have to focus to hear his words because of how low he mumbles them. “And you were really pretty…”

This confession that seemingly comes out of the blue makes your heart swell with satisfaction and you can’t help but tease him about it. “What was that? I didn’t hear you clearly.”

“Oh c’mon, you heard me. Don’t make me say it again.”

“I want you to say it again, though.”

He sighs and gives in. “Fine. I said you were pretty.”

You laugh, way happier than you should be at his words, and he whines at you to not make fun of him. “So you were mean to me because I was pretty? Doesn’t make much sense,” you taunt.

He sighs again, shaking his head a bit as if in disbelief he’s actually talking about this. “It’s just that… I wanted to be nice, I promise you I did, but I just… I’m not even sure myself. I think it just pissed me off even more, because it wasn’t like having to ignore some rando, it was having to ignore a really pretty girl, which obviously I don’t really want to do,” he says, and you laugh again. “But then you ended up being really nice as well and even funny, and I felt like an asshole for being mean. Which I should never have been in the first place, I know. I’m just… bad with strangers, like I said. Not used to them. It’s not an excuse for my behavior, though, so I’m sorry.”

You look at him with a smile and thank him for apologizing. Sadly, it’s a lot more than most nineteen-year-old boys would do, so you appreciate it. You spend the rest of the ride teasing him about how he thinks you’re pretty and how he was really acting like a tsundere, earning a few embarrassed chuckles from him. Something about getting him flustered just gets you going: his shy smile that reveals a pair of dimples and another of fangs, the blush creeping on his cheeks as he looks down at his feet. Too adorable.

When you reach the entrance to the club, he helps you get off the horse, holding you when your knees almost buckle at the impact of your feet against the ground. For some reason, you weren’t expecting to be so high up, even though you had been on a nearly two-meter horse for the past fifteen minutes.

“You know, I could teach you how to mount, if you’re interested,” he says as you brush some horse hair from your leggings.

That’s the second offer Sunghoon makes you tonight; he’s really showing you his nice side now, you realize with a flip of your stomach. You could just say yes, that sounds fun, but instead, you decide to annoy him some more. “Didn’t know I was so pretty that the Park Sunghoon would offer to give me lessons!”

He rolls his eyes playfully and starts to walk away with Flame. “Forget it then.”

You giggle as you catch up to him and nudge his shoulder with yours. “I’d love to.” 

-

From that day on, it’s a lot easier to be around Sunghoon. He still doesn’t let you complain, and you can tell the walls he’s built around himself have only shrunk by a few bricks, but at least his attitude doesn’t flip around anymore. He reveals a side of himself that’s goofier than you’d have imagined, cracking random dad jokes and making side comments that never fail to make you laugh. He’s also quite sensitive to your teasing, always looking away with a blush, mumbling a small whatever at your words, but his shy smile lets you know that he doesn’t actually mind it.

The riding lessons usually happen in between work breaks or at the end of the day, and after a few of them, you know how to get a horse to start, turn, and stop, and you don’t like a complete fool when the horse’s pace goes up to a trot, having mastered the art of sitting and standing at the right time. Sunghoon had shown you a few horses you could practice on and you’d gone for a piebald horse named Picasso whose garrot reached your chin, because the agglomeration of white hairs at the top of his otherwise black head formed a small heart.

Although you’d noticed from the get-go that Sunghoon was nothing less than gorgeous, it hadn’t hit you in the face until now that you could call him a friend, and every time he smiled or that the light hit his eyes a certain way, your heart skipped a few beats. At first, you told yourself that that was it - you found him pretty. That didn’t mean much more than you being able to recognise beauty, and it certainly didn’t mean you actually liked him as anything else than a friend.

That was until this one day, when he was giving you a lesson after everyone had left the club. In the south of France where temperatures often rise to the high thirties in the summer, heavy storms are bound to break out. This was one of those days - it had been raining the entire day, but it had calmed out a bit at the end of the afternoon which was why you had gone ahead with the lesson. However, twenty minutes into it, the rain got heavier again and thunder suddenly rang, loud and resonating in the emptiness of the fields. Horses are generally skittish creatures, and Picasso was no exception, the sound frightening him so much that he took off in a rapid gallop. In less than a fortnight of lessons you hadn’t developed the strong legs and quick reflexes of an advanced rider, and you were unable to keep up with him, falling off of him with a yelp, everything happening in the fraction of a second.

You fell right on your butt, the pain shooting off from there and spreading to your whole body and taking away your breath for three long seconds. You had barely the time to register what had happened that Sunghoon was already next to you, frantically asking if you were okay and telling you to stay still. He pulled his phone out and called Yeji, telling her to come to the riding hall quickly. 

From your peripheral vision you could see Picasso pacing back and forth at the other side of the hall, as if to calm himself down. Sunghoon held you up with one firm hand planted on your back, his other hand resting on your arm as his thumb brushed your skin comfortingly. He helped you regain a normal heart rate by making you mirror his long and controlled breaths, worried eyes never once leaving your face. 

Yeji got to the riding hall in no time and immediately spotted you sitting on the floor and Sunghoon crouching over you, but her brother asked her to please take Picasso back to his stall before she could walk over to the two of you. She nevertheless asked if you were okay and you nodded, trying to give her a faint smile that reassured both her and Sunghoon.

“You feeling better?” Sunghoon asked when your tears had finally stopped falling, wiping away the ones that had rained down your cheeks and reached your jawline. 

You nodded, taking a deep breath through your nose that turned out to be useless when you opened your eyes and realized how close Sunghoon was, face merely inches away from yours and arms wrapped around you, taking your breath away more than the pain had. “Y-yeah, I’m fine, more shocked than anything.”

He let out a chuckle of relief and brushed the hair away from your face, fully putting your heart and lungs out of order. “I’m glad. Falls always happen when you first start out riding, but they’re still really scary. I was worried you got badly hurt for a second there,” he says simply, and before you can even process his words, he asks, “Are you feeling ready to get up?”

You can only nod, looking up at Sunghoon like he saved you from a near-death experience as he helps you up. If he notices your gawking, he doesn’t say anything, and you’re thankful for it. In your three weeks of knowing each other, you’ve been the one to tease Sunghoon and make him unable to say anything. Even just in general, you’re used to being the flirt that makes boys blush - very rarely were they able to do the same to you, even though they all tried their hardest. Yet Sunghoon, without even realizing it or doing it on purpose, had just made your heart flutter and your brain draw a blank. You wished you could blame it on the shock you just had and the pain still making your legs weak, but you’re reminded of all the times a simple smile or passing touch had put you in the same state, and you know you’d be a fool to continue on ignoring them.

It takes you literally falling flat on your ass to realize you have feelings for Park Sunghoon.

-

Unsure what to do with this newfound information, you decide to keep things between you and Sunghoon as they were. You’ll be leaving at the end of August anyway, no need to make things awkward for the remainder of your stay. Although some moments make you wonder if he might feel some kind of way for you too, you try not to think too much of them and enjoy your friendship as is. 

When you’ve reached a level where you being on a horse isn’t a danger to yourself or those around you, Sunghoon keeps his promise of showing you more of the premises and you go on horse rides together, allowing you to discover random creeks and benches that were placed in the middle of nowhere. You go on these a few times a week when you’re all done with your tasks of the day and the raging heat of the sun has somewhat calmed, and to your surprise, you actually really enjoy being out in nature, even though bugs are still a very much unwelcome part of it.

One day he mentions vet school and you’re reminded of your grandmother’s words on your first night here about how it wasn’t particularly what he wanted to do, so you ask him about it. He turns to you with a stunned look on his face. “I didn’t know she knew about that.”

“She told me she noticed a lot of things like that.”

He turns his head again and gazes up at the sky. “Well, she’s not wrong. It’s my parents that wanted me to go to vet school. I’d be happy just taking care of the club and making a living that way, but they say they don’t need my help year round and that it’s better for me to take up a better job.”

“For someone who doesn’t want to do it, it’s very impressive that you’re top of your class.”

He chuckles shyly and a blush appears on his cheeks. “Did Yeji say that? I only got the top grade for a couple of subjects, not all of them,” he says, making you scoff as if to say ‘still, very impressive.’ “And you know, I still like it and find it interesting, and if I’m doing it, might as well give it my best and make my parents proud.”

“Yeah, I get that. My parents are both doctors so there was never any doubt in either their or my mind that I’d become one too, until I started my first year and realized that maybe I could’ve done something else.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

You turn your head to look at him and he mirrors you. “Cause if I’m doing it, might as well give it my best and make my parents proud.”

You both look away with a chuckle. “Guess we’re more similar than I thought we were,” he says, taking you aback, but you’re very glad he thinks that way. You turn to your side, leaning against your elbow as you peer down at him.

“What about a riding career? Had you ever thought about that?”

“God, yeah,” he answers without any hesitation. “My parents signed me up for a few competitions when I was younger, and I won a couple. It made them happy, so I was happy, but I also actually really liked it. My parents never really asked how seriously I wanted to take it, though, and I didn’t say anything, so when Yeji started showing a lot of interest in competitions and becoming a professional rider they focused their attention on her and assumed I didn’t really mind, I guess. I never tried to prove them wrong. As I said, I’d be fine just taking care of the club.” He sighs and pauses for a second. “She was really young when she said she wanted to have a horse riding career, and my parents just ran with it. Now that she’s older and it takes up basically ninety percent of her life, I can tell it’s a lot of pressure on her. But it’s too late to switch places and she’s the same as me, doesn’t want to let down our parents. I just hope she won’t push herself too much, you know.”

You nod, listening intently to his words. “I’m sure you’ll be there to watch over her if she ever does. You seem like a good older brother.”

He smiles and looks up at you. “I try to be.” He reaches a hand up to your face and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. The sudden, unfamiliar and intimate gesture takes you by surprise and as soon as he registers your wide eyes and agape lips he retracts his hand, apologizing. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to be weird, I just- I don’t- I’m sorry,” he stammers, looking away with a blush.

You don’t say anything for a few seconds, too stunned by what just happened, and he looks back at you, calling out your name in a small voice. His worried expression immediately crumbles when you start laughing. “It’s fine,” you say between giggles. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief and smiles again. “Sorry, I just did it without thinking. My friends and family are always super touchy so I’m just used to that sort of thing.”

“I’m the opposite,” you say, and Sunghoon raises his eyebrows. “My parents aren’t very affectionate. I mean, they tell me they’re proud of me, and buy me gifts and stuff like that, but we never hug, or say we love each other. You’ve seen my grandma, right? The only time she’s hugged me in the almost three weeks I’ve been here was the very first day, and that’s because we hadn’t seen each other in six months.”

Sunghoon nods and hums at your words. “Yeah, now that you say that, your grandma isn’t the type to hug, or, I don’t know, pet your hair or anything, even though I’ve known her basically my whole life. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says, and you shake your head.

“No, don’t worry, you didn’t. It was actually… kinda nice,” you admit, looking away from him quickly.

“Really?” he asks with one of the widest grins you’ve ever seen on him, and you can’t believe this is the same boy that glared at you as he opened the door just a few weeks ago. You look at him from the corner of your eyes for a few seconds, trying to hide your smile, but give in and nod.

He opens his arms wide and says, “Come here,” and you look at him in disbelief.

“As in…” you say, pointing with your index finger to his chest, and he nods, blinking slowly. You scoff but do it anyway, resting your head on his chest, and a weird but warm bubble envelops your insides as he circles your waist with an arm and caresses your hair with his other hand.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, sending shivers down your spine.

“Yeah,” you whisper back. “This is okay.”

-

One Friday morning when he’s grooming Nellie and you’re braiding Picasso’s mane, he tells you he’s driving to the city tonight to meet up with his friends. “We’re just going to McDonald’s and then the cinema… and they’re kinda losers, you know, but it’d be fun if you came too. If you want to, I mean,” he offers, his shyness preventing him from looking you in the eyes. When you say you’d love to, his whole face lights up.

The day passes and when the clock strikes six p.m., you walk out of your grandmother’s house and find Sunghoon who’s waiting for you, back resting against his parents’ car. Hands in his pockets and sunglasses on, you can tell he’s trying to look cool and it makes him all that much more endearing to you. He fixes his posture and takes his sunglasses off when he sees you approaching, as if trying to get a better look; he’s seen you wear cuter outfits than tank tops and denim shorts for the dinners with his family but you’ve never worn such a pretty dress, and his heart speeds up at the mere sight of you.

“Like what you see?,” you say when you’re closer to him, twirling around in your dress.

“You look beautiful,” he says, and the look on his face must not be far from the one you wore when you saw him with Flame in that clearing a couple weeks ago.

His honesty makes you a bit shy, and you thank him as you ruffle his hair on your way to the passenger seat of the car. He stands there dumbfounded for a second until you call out his name, getting him back down to reality.

On your way to Perpignan, he tells you about his friends Heeseung, Jay and Jake, and how they all met two years ago. He shared a dorm with Jay and Jake in their first year of preparatory classes, and Heeseung, in the year above, was assigned as his mentor. They all clicked instantly and have been practically inseparable ever since, although they all live quite far away from each other, which is why it’s easiest to meet up in Perpignan when they’re on break from their studies.

“Heeseung’s girlfriend will also be there. Her name is Yunjin, she’s really nice, so if the guys get annoying you two can just talk together.”

“Why, do you guys have a tendency to get annoying when you’re together?,” you ask lightheartedly, making Sunghoon chuckle.

“Not always, but it’s a possibility. They’re nice though, so don’t worry. Jay and Jake especially are outgoing, even though Jay kinda ruins the mood sometimes cause his jokes are just awful. Heeseung is a bit shy though, just don’t take it personal if he like, doesn’t really talk to you or anything.”

“That’s funny, that reminds me of someone,” you say with a smile, unable to stop yourself. Sunghoon just replies with one of his famous whatevers.

It takes you about an hour to get to Perpignan. When you arrive, his friends are waiting outside of the McDonald’s, the boys waving with their whole arms in your direction while Yunjin watches them cross-armed, a smile on her face. “Oh, God,” Sunghoon murmurs, already embarrassed by his friends. “They’re not always like that, I promise,” he says as you walk over to them.

“Really,” you deadpan when they’ve started chanting Sunghoon’s name, watching as his face turns a deeper shade of red.

“Hi guys,” he greets them, bro-hugging Heeseung, Jay and Jake and kissing Yunjin on each cheek. You remind yourself once again to start from the right and not the left, and greet the boys first. They all say “hi, Y/N” and give you their names, and you’re quite flustered that you don’t need to tell them your name.

“Sunghoon’s told us a lot about you,” Jake says with a knowing expression, and you all chuckle when Sunghoon mutters “shut up, Jake.”

You go to greet Yunjin next and you’re surprised when, rather than simply pressing the corner of her lips against your cheek like most people do when they greet someone they’re not particularly close to, she actually kisses your cheek, an extra-friendly gesture. “I was so relieved when Sunghoon said he was bringing a girl,” she confesses, reminding you of Yeji, “I can’t deal with having to babysit these four all the time. Look at them,” she says, gesturing towards the quartet with a nudge of her head. They’re sizing Sunghoon up, ruffling his hair, pinching his cheeks and brushing away invisible creases in his t-shirt as he tries to swat their hands away, to no avail, and you can’t help but laugh at them along with Yunjin.

You all head inside the McDonald’s, getting into pairs of two to pick your order on the giant touch screens. You choose a McChicken, potato wedges and ice tea, and Sunghoon chides you for getting wedges instead of fries.

“People who get those think they’re better than everyone else,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Because we are,” you say with a smile. You touch the screen to get to the payment page but Sunghoon goes back, saying he’ll order too.

“But I need to pay?” you say, looking up at him questioningly.

“I can pay for the two of us,” he says nonchalantly, and you tease him with an ‘ooh.’ “Shut up,” he mutters, already blushing, “just let me do something nice for you.”

“Fine,” you smile, nudging his shoulder with yours a bit. “Thanks. I’ll get the cinema tickets then.”

He turns to you abruptly, his eyebrows drawn in together. “But then that cancels out me paying for this…” he whines, and you give him a look as if to say, “yeah, exactly.” 

“I don’t mind getting the tickets,” he says. “I get paid for my work at the club but I never spend any money, so, you know, I can get this for you. It makes me happy,” he mumbles, avoiding your teasing gaze.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you say, the nickname escaping your lips before you can stop it. He doesn’t seem to mind it; if anything, his blush gets deeper. You think he might end up eternally red at this rate.

“Of course.” He orders a double Big Mac, fries and a coke, and you tease him for getting such a boring meal. “They’re classics for a reason,” he defends himself. 

You swear you’ve never seen him so red and so stuttery as when you get on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek as a thank you for paying, and you think there’s no way he could get any cuter than this. His friends don’t miss it and Jake punches him very obnoxiously in the shoulder as what you can only assume is a weird congratulatory gesture.

His friends are a bit annoying, but in a funny way, so it’s okay. You’re so unaccustomed to their very unique sense of humor that everything they say and do makes you laugh, whereas they’re used to behaving like that and don’t even question their weirdness anymore. Contrary to what Sunghoon told you, Jay’s jokes land with you every time, even when the whole table grunts. 

Most of the conversation, to Sunghoon’s dismay, is spent telling embarrassing stories about him, which his friends have a lot of after having seen him drunk so many times. Heeseung asks you about how it’s been being with Sunghoon at the club, and you don’t really notice the sly smirk on his and Jake’s faces until you’re done answering. You tell them about all the things he’s made you do, but when you notice him about to complain, you add that it’s also been nice, learning how to ride a horse and spending time in the countryside.

“So you’ve seen Sunghoon ride, then?” Jake asks, and Heeseung’s snort tells you it’s not an innocent question.

“Yeah, I have,” you say, but it comes out more a question because their behavior confuses you.

Jake gives you a pointed look. “And, what did you think? I mean, it’s not the coolest sport out there, is it?” he asks, and the way Sunghoon looks down at his half-eaten burger is enough for you to put the puzzle pieces together.

You frown slightly. “Well, I think it’s a lot cooler than running after a ball and pretending like you’re gonna die when you twist your ankle,” you reply, remembering Jake’s mention of him playing soccer. Jay is quick to diffuse the tension when he sees Jake about to bite something back, saying to just talk about something else. You back off and look at Sunghoon, who seems to have completely spaced out and left the conversation. You rest your hand at the top of his knee, his attention snapping back towards you and he gives you a small smile, then turns to his friends and the conversation starts again as if nothing had happened. You’re thankful for it, because you don’t wanna create trouble the first time you meet them and make it awkward, but you really don’t appreciate his friends making him feel like he’s not “cool” because he’s a horse rider; there’s already enough stigma about it being a girls’ sport, he doesn’t need any added pressure from them.

The rest of the meal goes well, Heeseung and Yunjin throwing fries at each other, and the table making fun of Jay for eating his McFlurry so messily. Apart from the horse riding comment and the fact that they love teasing him (which you do too, to be fair), Sunghoon’s friends are nice and make him laugh, so you relax around them once again, although you and Jake exchange a few tense eye contacts. You won’t feel sorry for defending Sunghoon, even if you’ve known him for three weeks and Jake has for two years. 

When you’re done eating, you walk to the movie theater that’s just two minutes away, the boys ahead and you and Yunjin in tow. “I’m really glad you spoke up for Sunghoon earlier, and I’m sure he appreciated it too,” she says, just loud enough for you to hear. “I’ve tried speaking about it with Heeseung, but he and Jake just don’t seem to get that it actually annoys Sunghoon and they say it’s just for fun. I did horse riding when I was a kid, so I know how hard it actually is, and Jay is just a bit more mature than them, so we try to get them to stop, but they still do it a bit. Their humor is basically just making fun of everyone in their group, so sometimes they don’t know when to stop.”

You nod at her words, the situation a bit clearer now. “He should bring them to the club and show them how good he is,” you say. “Or better yet, make them get on a horse so they can see firsthand that it’s not the horse doing all the work like everyone says.” Yunjin laughs and agrees, saying she’d pay to see those boys on a horse. 

You reach the cinema as you make a note to talk to Sunghoon about this later before you can forget. You ask Yunjin what movie you’re seeing, realizing you had no idea, and she rolls her eyes. “I wanted to go see the new Marion Cotillard movie, but the boys said it looked boring, so we’re going to watch some horror movie. I don’t even know the name, but I’m sure it’s just a rehash of the same tired haunted house plot.”

While Sunghoon gets the tickets, you sneak to the food counter and get two bottles of coke and a large popcorn to share with him. He complains that he could’ve gotten that but you shut him up with a tut. 

“Are you good at watching horror movies?” you lean in and whisper when you’re seated and waiting for the movie to start while ads play, and you see him shiver slightly, but that might just be because of the aircon in the theater and not your proximity.

“What do you mean, am I good at watching them? Do you mean if I like them?” he asks, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he looks at you.

“No, I mean if you get scared easily. You can like them and watch them a lot but still get scared. I feel like you’d scream at all the jumpscares,” you add that later part just to tease him, and you know you hit bullseye when he looks away with a scoff, straightening in his seat.

“I guess they’re fun to watch, but no, I don’t get scared. And I’m definitely not going to scream.” He looks down at you with a smirk, his confidence hitting him out of nowhere as it sometimes does. “But I know you will, so feel free to hold onto my arm when you get scared,” he says, and it’s your turn to scoff and look away.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be alright,” you say just as the lights start to dim and the movie starts playing.

It takes a while for the movie to pick up, so the first half hour, you’re not really into it, paying more attention to the way your hand brushes against Sunghoon’s whenever you reach for the popcorn at the same time rather than to what is happening on screen. However, when a ghost with a very unpleasant face suddenly pops out, you can’t keep yourself from jumping in your seat and letting out a small gasp which Sunghoon would’ve made fun of, had he not been twice spooked as you were, the pieces of popcorn he was about to eat discarded somewhere at his feet because of the jumpscare.

You share a look with Sunghoon and when the both of you realize the other was completely bluffing, you burst into quiet giggles. He offers you his arm to hold onto again and you roll your eyes but take it anyway, glad for the reassurance his warmth brings you. You wrap one hand around his bicep and place the other in his hand, interlacing your fingers together, and for once you’re the shy one and can’t look him in the eye, keeping your gaze on the screen when you feel his eyes on you, surprised but pleased by your cute action.

You spend the rest of the movie like this, bodies turning towards each other every time something scary happens on screen as if instinctively going to the other to find comfort. If you weren’t in a public place, you probably would’ve ended up in his lap. Or he in yours, perhaps.

The loss of his warmth when the movie ends and the lights turn back on makes your heart a bit sad, and you already find yourself waiting for the time you’ll get to feel him next to you again. When you walk out of the theater, the sun’s finally set and the sky is starting to get dark. You all walk back to the parking lot, Heeseung, Jay, Jake and Yunjin ahead, talking about the movie excitedly and recalling their favorite scenes, but you and Sunghoon hang back a bit. He’s silent and for a second you’re worried all the hand-holding has made him awkward but when you look up at him, he gives you a smile that calms all your nerves in an instant.

Jake suddenly turns around to face you, walking backwards. “What did you two lovebirds think?” he asks.

“It was alright,” Sunghoon answers. “It had some scary scenes but I couldn’t really get into it.”

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause you two were too busy being all- ow!” Jake starts but is interrupted by a kick in the shins, courtesy of Jay.

“Can you read the room, just once in your life, bro?” he says, and Jake rolls his eyes but turns back around anyway, leaving you and Sunghoon to laugh at his friends’ antics. 

When you reach the parking lot, you say goodbye to everyone, saying it was nice meeting them and you hoped to see them again soon. “If you can, you should try and visit the club at some point, it’d be nice seeing you there,” you tell Yunjin as you hug her goodbye.

The car ride home is silent at first, betraying both your and Sunghoon’s shyness. “Tonight was nice,” you start, wanting to start a conversation after a few minutes of just looking out the window.

Sunghoon responds immediately as if he’d been waiting for you to say something. “Yeah? I’m glad. I was scared you weren’t going to like my friends or something…” he says, glancing at you with a worried expression on his face.

“Well, I really liked Yunjin and Jay…” you trail.

“But?”

“But…” you sigh, too late to turn back, but unsure whether it’s your place to bring this up. “Heeseung and Jake were nice, you know, but that comment they made about you horse riding really brushed me the wrong way.”

“Aww,” Sunghoon coos, and you roll your eyes at his fake saccharine tone. “Did it make you upset for me?”

“It did!” you say, wanting Sunghoon to know you were serious. “Friends shouldn’t make fun of your passions. Plus you’re really good at it, and I’m sure they’d be impressed by you. I talked about it with Yunjin, you know,” you add before he can cut in. “She said it happens all the time and you’re used to it, but it’s not something you should have to put up with. You should have them over at the club some day.”

Sunghoon hums, pouting his lips a bit. “I don’t know… It’s not that big of a deal. It’s how we mess with each other.”

“You looked really down when they were saying those things, Hoon. You’re allowed to say when something bothers you. And if they don’t listen, then they’re assholes. I know you’ve been friends for a while now, and I’m not trying to make you cut them off by any means, but I think you should talk to them. If they’re good friends, they’ll understand and not want to say something that hurts you. At least I hope so,” you say, looking out the window again to hide how upset this truly makes you. Sunghoon’s next words come as a surprise to you.

“Thanks, Y/N.” You look back at him with a questioning look, wordlessly asking him to go on, and he sighs. “I’m sort of used to keeping everything for myself. Taking a step back so I don’t take things personally, not complaining and just doing what I’m told even if it’s not what I want to do, stuff like that, I’m used to it. I just- I don’t wanna bother anyone, you know. I think you’re the first person who’s ever told me I’m allowed to voice things out.”

You don’t know what to say for a few seconds, shocked by this revelation. It’s very fitting of him - sacrificing his potential career for his sister, going to vet school to please his parents but taking care of the center whenever he’s on break. You didn’t know this behavior went deeper than that, and it was ingrained in him to just take it all and never put up a fight.

You say, “You’re allowed to put yourself first, you know. Sometimes, you even need to,” and it’s an unfamiliar breath of fresh air that blows away some of the weight on his shoulders, hearing those words. He chuckles a bit, hoping that the tears pooling in his eyes don’t accidentally overflow.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to do that, but it’s nice knowing I have the option. Thank you, Y/N,” he repeats, and you smile at him, relieved when he smiles back.

The rest of the car ride goes by in a flash as you make fun of each other for being so scared of the film and jump from topic to topic like frogs bouncing around lily pads, somehow neither of you ever losing track of the conversation. You tell him someone with such a boring McDonald’s order doesn’t deserve to have opinions and he says that of course you’d think that since you chose potato wedges instead of french fries.

Without noticing it, you soon reach the center, and Sunghoon walks you to your doorstep after parking the car. You stand in front of each other at the door, and you seriously feel like the main lead in a teen rom-com, butterflies in your stomach and all the works as you look up at him, expecting a little something.

“So…” he starts, pressing his lips into a flat line to hide his smile.

“So…” you repeat, nudging your foot with his as you both look down.

“Tonight was nice,” he says sheepishly and you can’t help but laugh, him soon imitating you.

“It was. But we’ve already established that, I think.”

“Right.” His gaze finds yours, and the look in his eyes makes your heart feel like it’s on an acid trip. You stare at each other for a few seconds, unable to look away, and you’re about to run off into the house, the tension too much to handle, when his eyes finally drop to your lips. Knowing him, he probably won’t do much more, so you take a small step towards him and raise your lips towards his, closing the distance between the two of you inch by inch, getting closer, closer, closer, until-

“Sunghoon!” Yeji’s voice rings out in the night, taking you aback as you gasp and stumble a few steps back, not wanting her to see you almost devour her brother’s face. Sunghoon closes his eyes and shakes his head, then lets out an exasperated “what.”

“I can’t believe you went to see that new movie without me. I saw it in Jay's story. I told you I wanted to go see it!”

He sighs and looks at you, mouthing a “sorry” before walking towards her, hooking his arm over her shoulders as he walks her back to their house. 

“Sorry, lil sis. We can go watch it together, I don’t mind seeing it again. Also, why do you follow Jay? Unfollow him,” he commands, and after that you can’t hear anything because they’re too far away. You watch them walk with a smile on your face, appreciating their little moment together, and your heart does a little somersault of joy when Sunghoon turns around to wave at you from his door.

-

After that night, you’re more determined than ever to turn that almost-kiss into a actually-happened-kiss. However, your resolve soon seems to have been for nothing when Sunghoon tells you about how he wishes he didn’t have to leave with his parents, but they won’t let him stay, and you’re reminded of the Parks yearly vacation that starts the next day, exactly three days after the night out.

It’s a late Sunday afternoon and you’ve done everything you needed to for that day, so you and Sunghoon went off on a horse ride as you often do, deciding to take a break when you reach a field in which a bunch of haystacks rest. You only had to exchange a look to understand the other immediately, so you tied your horses to a tree and raced over to the closest stack, helping each other get to the top and laying there.

“I wish you didn’t have to go either,” you say, playing with a loose strand of hay peeking out from the stack in the small space between you and Sunghoon.

“You gonna miss me?” Sunghoon teases, grinning as he lightly nudges your shoulder.

“As surprising as it sounds, I think I might,” you say, and from the corner of your eye you see his grin get wider.

“I think I will too,” he replies, and he giggles when he sees you try and fail to suppress a smile. “Actually, I definitely will,” he adds just to see you smile bigger, and it works.

“When are you leaving again exactly?” you ask to change the subject.

“Early tomorrow morning. I still haven’t packed,” he says and sighs.

“We should head back so you can pack,” you say even though you don’t want to do that at all.

“Yeah, we should, but I don’t want to,” he replies, practically reading your mind. “I wanna stay here for a while.”

A small silence settles between the two of you, but it says more than a thousand words. The tension that has been hanging over your heads for a while now but only thickened after Friday night is almost palpable now. You’re laying so close that your arms are almost touching, occasionally brushing when one of you shifts, and if you turned your head, his face would be right there, which means his lips would be right there. Well, one of you is going to have to do something about this tension, you think, and it’s definitely not going to be him.

“Sunghoon?” you call out, turning your head towards the boy next to you. He does the same and your eyes meet. In this late afternoon hour, the sun is right behind you and he has to squint a little bit and use his hand as a shield to look at you properly. He looks a bit stupid like that, but you think he’s cute.

“Yeah?”

The warm feeling that spreads over your whole body at the sound of his voice is what gives you the confirmation that you want to say what you say next, and the courage to do it.

“Can I kiss you?”

His eyebrows raise slightly but he’s quick to hide his surprise and starts grinning instead, revealing those fangs of his you love so much. You have a feeling they’d leave the cutest marks on your skin. “Sure,” he says, letting his eyes drift down to your lips just like that other night.

So you do.

You lean in close enough to press your lips onto his, letting them touch for a brief second before leaning back again. A small pout forms on his lips at the fleeting contact. “That’s it?”

You could just eat him whole, you think. A kiss will have to do. “What did you want?” you ask, trying and failing to hide a smirk.

“That wasn’t a proper kiss.”

“Yeah? What’s a proper kiss then?”

He looks away with a huff. “I’m sure you know what a proper kiss is. Why would you ask to kiss me if you’re not even gonna do it properly…”

“How about you show me then?”

This makes him look promptly back at you, his eyes a bit wider. When he just gulps without saying anything, you add: “Or should I try again? Properly this time?”

He nods, eyes set on your lips. He’d always found them pretty and inviting, and he’d caught himself daydreaming about this exact moment a few times, but now that it was right in front of him, his brain was short-circuiting. All he could do was close his eyes and wait for you.

You find it cute how he screws his eyes shut before you’re even kissing him, making him look like a k-drama female lead during the first kiss scene. You can’t help but smile a little even as you bring your lips to his once again, this time a bit firmer, a bit deeper. He waits for you to move your lips against his before he does so too, but once he’s started, he’s unstoppable.

In fleeting conversations and off-hand comments, you’d learned that Sunghoon had had a couple girlfriends but that it always ended after a few months. When you’d accused him of “virgin behavior” after he did something embarrassing for an almost twenty-year-old, he’d fervently defended himself of very much not being virgin and very much having had sex before, which you’d said was what a virgin would say, but you knew he was saying the truth because he wasn’t the type to lie, especially about this sort of thing.

What was sure was that he kissed you like he knew what he was doing, and he was doing it well. His shy demeanor from a minute ago is completely gone as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, holding you tight against him. His hands were shy at first, but when yours made their way to his hair so you could gently tug at the strands there, he understood he didn’t need to be so polite. One of his hands found your waist while the other cupped your cheek, his thumb coming under your chin to tilt it up towards him. 

Your lips move against the others’ like you’d done this your whole life, and you’re unable to keep it Disney-friendly for long as your feelings and the fact that you were finally touching each other like you’d been wanting to take over any reason you had left. The kiss turns hungrier, needier, hotter, as if catching up on all that time you lost to dilly-dallying around each other. It’s easy to slip your tongue inside his mouth and you swear you hear him moan when your tongues come into contact, the small sound making your brain turn into mush and giving you one goal, and one goal only: hear him again.

You pull away and press a palm to his shoulder, and he lets you push him down on his back as you straddle his lips, positioning your core right over his growing erection and watching with a smirk as he bites his lips and furrows his eyebrows, humming at the feeling of you against him. You press your lips back against his and note with satisfaction that his movements are messier than before, kissing you mouth open and letting you take full control of the kiss, almost unable to focus on kissing you and on feeling you grind very lightly, almost teasingly against him. Slick pools in your underwear at the angelic sounds he’s making, and you’re very happy he doesn’t seem to be shy about being vocal because his moans are the prettiest sound you've ever heard.

You move away from his lips and trail wet kisses on his cheeks and jawline, moving down to his neck and his Adam’s apple, gently biting and sucking the skin at the base of his throat, enough to make him squirm underneath you but not enough to leave a mark, even though you’d love to, the thought of other girls seeing him all marked up because of you filling you with a sense of pride you didn’t know you could have.

You find his sweet spot at the juncture of his neck and his shoulder, so you kiss him more there, tracing the other side of his neck with your fingernails. He’s so sensitive and those actions alone are enough to have him whine a small “fuck, Y/N, that feels so good,” and you think you might actually go insane with lust for him. 

You’ve just started kissing him on the lips again, his hands holding your hips so tightly you think they might almost bruise your skin and his kisses desperate and needy, when his phone buzzes. Taken aback, you pull away quickly, and he whines at the loss of contact. He goes in to kiss you again but you tut and tell him to check his phone in case it’s important. You note that he does what you say, and you wonder whether that’ll hold up for other situations. You observe him as he unlocks his phone and reads the text, and you curse yourself for waiting until he leaves to do this. You could’ve had him heaving, cheeks rosy, lips slightly swollen and eyes blown out for some weeks now, but your hesitation prevented you from doing anything, and now you’ll have to wait ten more days to see him like this again - that is, if he wants to do it again.

“It’s my mom,” he says with a sigh, snapping you out of your reverie. “She says I need to come home and pack my bag and have dinner.”

You pout at each other and he sits up, wrapping his arms around your middle and nuzzling his face in your neck. The rather intimate action surprises you a bit, but mostly you find it endearing, and it was pretty obvious Sunghoon would be the clingy type. You’re happy he feels comfortable enough around you to show this side of him - plus, it makes him ten times more adorable than he already was in your eyes.

“I want to go even less now,” he murmurs, voice muffled and you giggle at him as you caress his head.

“Same. But ten days will go by quickly, right? And I’ll be right here when you come back,” you say, leaning back so you can cup his face in your palms and look at him, his cheeks a bit squished. “You’re so cute,” you whisper with a smile, and the compliment makes his cheeks heat up but for once he doesn’t look away and keeps your gaze locked in his.

You peck his lips quickly and get off of his lap. “Right, we should go then,” and when he whines in protest, you add, “your mom will be mad, Hoon,” which is enough to convince him.

You head slowly back to the center and walk the horses to their stalls, talking about this and that as you often do, but you grow silent as you near his house, dreading having to say goodbye. The only difference with Friday night is that you’re standing at his door and not yours; the tension and heart-fluttering awkwardness are the same. Well, maybe not exactly the same, because you had your tongue down his throat just fifteen minutes ago.

“You’ll be alright when I’m gone, right?” he asks, taking your hands in his and letting them hang between you two.

“Yeah, I will. Plus, your parents’ friend is coming to take care of the club, right? I’ll help her, and I’ll hang out with my grandma while you’re on vacation and the ten days will be over before we know it,” you say, more trying to reassure yourself than him.

Sunghoon sighs but nods as if trying to convince himself too. “Right.”

“Right,” you repeat, and look up at him with a smile. The thought that this might look completely dramatic to any outsider crosses your mind, but you ignore it because you’re really not looking forward to spending ten days without Sunghoon here. When he comes back, you’ll only have three weeks left, and that simple fact already makes your heart ache.

He takes you in his arms and holds you close to him for a few moments. “Okay. I’ll see you soon, Y/N,” he whispers in your hair. “Don’t miss me too much. But not too little either. Just the right amount,” he jokes, and usually you’d have punched his chest or something but right now all you can do is chuckle. He pulls away and pecks you on the lips, and when you take a step back, he opens the door and waves at you goodbye, then disappears inside the house.

-

Not to be dramatic, but those ten days are probably the longest of your life. The Parks’ friend, Madame Rasson, is nice enough, and you enjoy helping her out and having dinner with her and your grandmother every night, but she’s no Park Sunghoon. You don’t really have the urge to gallop away with her and kiss at the top of a haystack as the sun sets behind you, nor do you feel like a small part of your heart stays with her when you’re not together.

Sunghoon calls you every night under the pretext of wanting to know how the horses are doing, but you know Mrs Park and Mme Rasson are keeping in touch and that he just wants to talk to you. You don’t call him out on it though and let him tell you about his day when he’s done pretending he cares about who did what and who went where. After a few days, as you’re nearing the end of a call, he tells you he misses you then hangs up right after as if he hadn’t been basically crying into your shirt about how much he didn’t want to leave and how much he’d miss you just a few days prior, but you just giggle and text him that you miss him too, which he texts a heart back to.

Yunjin also comes around one day, saying she missed horse riding and wanted to hang out again, so you show her around the club and go on a horse ride together, taking her to all the spots Sunghoon took you to, pointing with a giggle to the spot where you made out. She gasps when she hears that and lightly slaps your shoulder. “You two made out?” she says, surprise and excitement all over her face. You only giggle some more and nod, face heating up.

“I mean, it was obvious it would happen at some point. You guys were giving each other major heart eyes the other day.” You roll your eyes and say you weren’t even though you know you very much were. “Plus, the guys send a lot of voice messages on their group chat and I sometimes listen to them with Heeseung. The way Sunghoon talks about you is so cute it makes me want to throw up sometimes.”

The thought of Sunghoon talking about you to his friends makes your heart jump and swell with pride a bit. “Really? What does he say?” you ask, not looking at Yunjin to hide the stupid smile you’re wearing.

“He just talks about your day and what you guys did, but he’ll focus on a random thing like the way you said hi to the horses or how you ate your food and he’ll be like, it was the cutest thing ever. He doesn’t go into too much detail cause he knows the guys will make fun of him but it’s still really sweet. Heeseung told me he’s never talked about any other girl like that, you know,” she says, looking at you pointedly. “And you probably also know Sunghoon isn’t the easiest to get to know. But he’s clearly let you in, and he really wanted you to meet the boys, so I think he really, really likes you.”

You give yourself a few moments to process Yunjin’s words, but all you can say in the end is “Well, I really, really like him too,” and Yunjin laughs at you.

She stays over for dinner, charming your grandmother with her jokes and willingness to help, and spends the night as well. You two stay up until late talking about your families, school, how she met Heeseung and how cute you and Sunghoon are, and the fact that you have to stay quiet so as not to wake your grandma up makes you want to laugh even harder. When she leaves the next morning, she mentions that she saw the sea was really nearby and asked if you’d been.

“I haven’t yet, but Sunghoon did say he knew a spot and would take me sometime… I’ll ask him about it again,” you say, and she nods fervently, saying she hasn’t been to the beach forever. You hug each other goodbye and you wave at her until you can’t see her car anymore, and you get that empty feeling of being alone again, so you go find your grandmother and bother her with tons of questions which she answers patiently. Five days to go until Sunghoon comes back.

And then these five days are over, and Sunghoon finds you in the middle of the afternoon, taking a nap in your grandmother’s backyard and oblivious to the fact that the boy you like the most is back. He wakes you up by taking your sunglasses delicately off of your eyes and pressing his lips to the top of your head. You frown and open your eyes bit by bit until you recognise the boy hunching over you and then open your eyes all at once, sitting up in your lounge chair and wrapping your arms around Sunghoon’s neck, pulling him down towards you.

“Hi,” he giggles, chin hooked over your shoulder.

“You’re back!”

“I am.” He pulls away to peck your lips, and it’s like he hasn’t even left a day. “I’ll go get changed and check on Nellie and then we can go for a horse ride, if you want?”

You nod excitedly. “Sure. I’ll go get the horses ready.” You both rush to your respective destinations and meet again fifteen minutes later in the grooming hall just as you finish buckling Picasso’s saddle. Sunghoon pecks your lips once more just because he can, and then you’re off.

Sunghoon’s prepared a blanket so you could lie in the grass in the clearing. On your way there, you ask him about his vacation and he admits it was actually really fun. They drove down to Spain, spending a couple days in Barcelona and then a week in a smaller seaside town. In terms of weather and landscape, it wasn’t very different from their hometown, but the food was amazing and the people very welcoming, and Sunghoon and Yeji could finally put their years of learning Spanish in school to the test.

“I took a lot of pictures because there were so many things that reminded me of you or that I thought you’d like,” he admits bashfully, taking out his phone from his bag once you’re settled on the blanket. You rest your head on his chest and rest your hand on the side of his stomach, feeling the vibrations of his laughter against your ear and commenting on the pictures he shows you, giggling when he starts rapidly scrolling through fifteen consecutive selfies.

You try to keep up a conversation but it’s a bit hard to do when his neck is right there, close enough for you to press kisses on or to nuzzle your face in if you just lifted your head a bit, and his skin is soft and warm and you want to feel all of it under your palms. Even Sunghoon, who usually never shuts up when he’s with someone he’s comfortable around, is quiet. His sigh when you trail your hand up from his waist to his shoulder tells you he’s probably thinking the same as you, and as soon as you graze your fingers through his hair, he’s rolled you onto your back and his lips are on yours, kissing you with all the need that’s built up over the past ten days. You have a feeling just kissing won’t be enough to satisfy either of you today.

There’s a sense of urgency to all of your movements, the way all four hands are restless and travel each other’s body tirelessly, pulling on the other’s hair, kneading the skin here, caressing it here. Sunghoon bites down on your lower lip and the action makes you moan, so he takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your kisses are open-mouthed and wet and messy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way because they translate all the desire you have for him and you want him to know exactly just how he’s making you feel.

You remember how much Sunghoon likes it when you compliment him, or tease him using your words, so you decide to do just that. When he starts trailing kisses your jaw, then sucking and biting at your neck, leaving tiny marks there, you whisper his name, making him hum. 

“Hoon. I want you so fucking bad.” 

You feel him trembling at your words and he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, whining as he continues pressing wet kisses there. He ruts his hips into yours, seemingly more by reaction than deliberately. “Want you too,” he murmurs, and slips his hands underneath your t-shirt, the flesh on your stomach burning everywhere his hands touch it. You lift your arms so he can take the piece of fabric off, and he’s quick to find the back of your bra as well, unclasping it and revealing your breasts to him.

In no time he’s already delving into your body, pretty pink lips circling and sucking on one of your nipples and deft fingers playing with the other, warmth spreading all over you at the intense pleasure he’s finally giving you, wetness already starting to make your underwear stick to your core.

Your fingers find purchase in his hair, pulling whenever it feels particularly good, and he seems to like the pain that comes with it because it’s enough to have him moaning around your nipple. “Fuck, Hoon, that feels so good,” you breathe out. Despite your praise and to your confusion, he pulls away, trailing kisses down your stomach until he reaches your shorts and looks up at you when his fingers are around the button, asking for confirmation to go further. He whispers “thank God” when you nod your head yes.

“Wanna make you feel good,” he says as he drags your shorts and underwear down at the same time, eyes fixated on your glistening folds.

You hold yourself up on your elbows, admiring him and his blown-out pupils and disheveled hair - he’s never looked hotter. “You already were, baby.”

“Wanna make you feel even better,” he says before diving right into your pussy, giving you no time to get used to the feeling as his tongue licks up a long stripe up your folds before finding your clit, alternating between giving it kitty-licks and sucking it. You’re a moaning mess in an instant, pulling even harder at his hair and sometimes holding onto his shoulders as if your body might start levitating at any moment. As if that didn’t already feel good enough, he then adds a finger, and quickly a second one into your hole, his thin and long digits feeling better than yours ever have. He must be some kind of fingering expert because he finds your g-spot in thirty seconds, pressing the sensitive spot again and again until you come apart for him in an embarrassingly quick orgasm, moaning his name and how good it feels like a broken record.

That doesn’t seem to be enough for Sunghoon, however, who doesn’t relent and sends your body into overstimulation until you find the energy to tell him to stop. “Was that good?” he asks innocently when his lips find yours again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Was it good?” you repeat, almost scoffing. “Baby, it was amazing.”

“Really?” he asks, a childlike grin on his face that is worlds away from the things he just did to your body.

“Really. Let me show you how good it felt,” you say with a mischievous smile, pushing his shoulder down so you switch positions and he’s the one laying, back against the blanket. “Let’s get this all off, yeah?” you say, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt, and when that’s gone, with the band of his sweatpants and underwear. He gulps when he’s fully naked under your curious gaze, but he’s brave and his eyes don't leave your face, patiently waiting for what you’ll say or do next.

“So pretty, Hoon,” you purr as your hands trail from his thighs up to his neck, applying some pressure there, not enough to cut off any oxygen but enough for him to feel it. “And all for me,” you add as you mark his neck just like he did yours, before pushing yourself down his body until your face is level with his now fully hard cock. You press wet kisses to his thighs and hear his breaths get shakier when your kisses get dangerously close to his crotch. “Haven’t even touched you, and you’re already this hard, baby?” you tease, and chuckle when his cock twitches at your words.

“Please,” he implores, voice small.

“Just a second, baby. Be good for me, yeah?” you ask and he nods, eyes screwed shut as if in pain. You had a feeling that Sunghoon might like to give control rather than have it, but you hadn’t thought he’d let you have full power over him like that. You can’t say you dislike it, though.

You don’t want to make him wait for too long, and the sigh of relief he lets out when you finally place your tongue on the base of his shaft and lick a stripe up is worth it. Your baby is loud and lets you know exactly what he likes, and what he likes is when you pay attention to his tip and his sensitive balls at the same time. You alternate between having your lips around his tip, hands massaging him, and your palm circling his tip, taking his balls in your mouth and letting them out with a pop. In just a few minutes, his whole body is shaking under your touch and his moans are getting louder and louder, almost shout-like. He calls out your name and pleads with you to stop, and you look up at him with a worried expression. Before you can ask if he’s okay, he says, “Wanna cum inside you,” and how can you refuse him when his blush has spread to his whole face and his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and pleasure, trying his best not to cum?

“Of course, baby.”

He sits up and you straddle his lap, telling him you’re on the pill when he’s about to pull out a condom he’d sneakily brought from his bag. “Fuck, okay,” he says, voice shaky at the idea of feeling your bare walls around him.

You raise yourself over him, your arms wrapping themselves around his neck and his around your waist, you line your entrance up with his dick and then sit back down onto his lap, his cock stretching you out in the best way possible as it slips right in, your wetness serving as natural lube. You waste no time before moving your hips against his, first rocking them back and forth and then raising them up and down, the both of you letting out loud moans and breaths at the pleasure taking over your bodies.

“Y/N, feels so good, gonna cum quick,” he breathes out into the crook of your neck, biting the flesh there which feels surprisingly good.

“That’s okay baby, you’ve done so well, cum whenever you want.”

“Want you to cum too, though,” he whines, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“You already made me- fuck!” you scream out of surprise when Sunghoon’s hands suddenly grip your thighs tightly and he holds you steady like this as he ruts his hips up into yours, the angle hitting right where it needs to. Your brain can’t form sentences that make any sort of sense so you’re left blabbering praises and curses at the same time, feeling your second orgasm rapidly approaching.

“Fuck, baby, just like that, fuck- so close, Hoon…”

The feeling of your walls clenching as your high washes over you is enough for Sunghoon to tip over the edge as well, your releases mixing together in a loud and sticky mess. You’ve never felt closer to heaven as you do now.

The seriousness of it all soon starts to fade as you and Sunghoon lock eyes and burst into giggles, breathing still heavy and irregular. You help clean each other up and put your clothes back on, but you don’t head home until the sun has long set, feasting on the snacks and water he’d brought along.

You check the time before you go to bed that night. 00:57, Thursday 11th August 2022. Twenty days left with Sunghoon. 

-

Eighteen days left with Sunghoon. Your last days together feel like a montage, like you’re watching a movie in which you play the lead role and you know the ending credits will have to start rolling at some point. You hate to be thinking that way, but the first thing you do when you wake up every morning is check the date and tell yourself how many days you’ve got left with your summer love. 19 days, 18 days. If Sunghoon feels a change in your attitude, how your gaze lingers more, how your touch softens, he doesn’t say anything.

You mentioned how you and Yunjin would like to go to the beach, so he called up his friends and got them to drive all the way over here. He said another time when you told him this is the perfect opportunity to show them his horse riding, and you didn’t push it.

He drives you all to what he calls ‘his’ beach spot, and indeed, it feels like it’s yours and yours only. It’s a bit of a trek getting there, having to walk up a dirt road and climbing some rocks before heading down to a small sandy beach where the sand is so hot it burns and the water only feels refreshing for two minutes, but you love it. He side-eyes Jake and Jay when you take off your dress and reveal your bikini-clad body, and barks at them to stop salivating even though they weren’t looking at you.

Yunjin on Heeseung’s shoulders, Jake on Jay’s and you on Sunghoon’s, the six of you play a tournament of who can make the others fall faster. Your boy has amazing balance, robust legs, a strong core, and decent (surprisingly impressive) arm muscles, so you win, a victory peck turning into a makeout session that everybody groans at, except for Jake who whoops. 

You apply sunscreen on each other’s backs and complain that evening when you’ve got weirdly-shaped sunburns anyway, you along the lines of your swimsuit and him on the back of his knees. You eat the watermelon Jay brought and the boys spit black seeds at each other, not daring to do it to you or Yunjin after the stank look you gave them.

When you get home and everyone has driven off, neither of you is quite ready to call it a night yet. Sunghoon eyes the backseat of his car and you understand what he wants immediately. His skin smells like sun, sweat, sunscreen and sea water, and it’s all so him. It smells so good, it’s almost intoxicating, and you think you’ll never be able to get enough of his scent, of him. You won’t be able to look up at the bright star in the day sky or at an orange bottle of sticky sunscreen the same way ever again. 

You’ve had many things in your life. You’ve had dolls, and you’ve had books and CDs. You’ve also had and still have friends, sometimes even boyfriends. You’ve had fun, and times that were not as fun. You’ve had sex. But you’ve not had anything like what you have with Sunghoon. He’s the one who gave you the intense feeling of truly loving and being loved, the insatiable craving of wanting more, the overwhelming need to see and talk to and feel and smell. 

He’s the one who gave you the best summer of your life, and it’s the best thing you’ve ever had. It overpowers everything you’ve ever had to the point that it feels like it’s the first thing you’ve ever had; it might be the only thing you ever have, because you don’t understand how you could want anything else now that you’ve had him. He’s all you need.

Seventeen days left with Sunghoon. You’re having your joyful weekly dinner with your grandmother and the Parks when you feel something hit your foot gently. You feel it again, and when you look up at the boy sitting right across the table from you he’s trying to hide a small smile, but you know him too well to miss it. His clothed foot caresses the ridge of your own and you suppress a giggle at the ticklish feelings. You tease him back, and you realize you’re playing footsies at the ripe age of twenty years old, but it doesn’t bother you. You both end up failing at not laughing and when innocently, his mother asks, “what are you two laughing at?”, he coughs and says it’s an inside joke.

Fourteen days left with Sunghoon. The last two weeks of summer lessons have started again and Sunghoon and you can’t run around and lay in random fields at any time of the day anymore, but you still try your best to spend every waking second of the day together, to the despair of his fangirls. However, you still find moments where it’s the two of you in an empty stall and one exchanged look is enough for you to push him against the walls, your lips finding his in the fraction of a second. Sadly, before it can get too heated, a nearby horse always neighs or huffs as if telling you to get a room.

Twelve days left with Sunghoon. Conveniently, Sunghoon’s sister and their parents are out for the night at a party in celebration of the competition season that’s about to end, so you finally get to spend the night in his room. You technically could’ve done it before, but the house is old and the walls are thin, and you didn’t need that kind of humiliation. 

Maybe Sunghoon feels that your time is slowly running to its end too, because as the days pass, he melts under your touch like a candle to a flame even more than before, he kisses your lips with more desperation and he holds your hips tighter as if you were going to disappear from between his hands at any moment. He always asks to please, please let’s cum at the same time and please, please say my name and you do it because you’d do anything for him.

You do it three times in a row, both of your bodies weak and sensitive with overstimulation yet unending desire, and you feel tears pouring down your cheeks as your third orgasm of the night hits you. There’s no way anything will ever feel as good as this. You tell him this, and he says, “I know.”

Seven days left with Sunghoon. He asks you what you’ll do when you go home, and you reply that you don’t know, because even though you’ve been thinking about what little time you have left together, you haven’t been thinking about the time after that, simply because it puts a bland feeling in your mouth whenever it crosses your mind. “I’ll start studying again and I’ll start my internship. I’ll get black out drunk at least once a month to forget all the stress and pressure of being a med student. I’ll think about you. That’s probably about it. What about you?”

“I’ll study too and I’ll have an assistantship at some point too. I’ll get drunk on Thursday nights and take care of the club during the weekends. I’ll think about you, too. More than you, I’m sure.”

“That’s not possible. You won’t ever leave my mind.”

“You won’t either,” he whispers.

Two days left with Sunghoon. He tells you you’re going camping for your last night together, not wanting to leave your side for even a second. “We’ve only got so much time left, we need to make the most of it,” he says, and you wished he knew that that had been your exact thought for the past twenty days.

That night, everything goes much slower than it usually does. You take your sweet time taking the clothes off of each other, reveling in discovering the smooth skin underneath the fabric as if you hadn’t seen it dozens of times by now. You find all of his moles and kiss them one by one, and he takes a full minute kissing down from your lips to your core. His thrusts are slow but deep, and your lips don’t leave the other’s the whole time.

-

Ten hours left with Sunghoon. You wake up the next morning when the sunlight the thin walls of the tent are unable to keep away gets too bright for your eyes’ liking. The warmth of this late August night has made you two drift apart while you slept, but you quickly find his body again and you wrap your arms around him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. He smells like sleep and like himself, which is comforting.

He calls out your name and you lift your head to look at him. When he doesn’t turn his head as well and only gives you his chin and jawline to look at, you know he’s about to say something important. Something he doesn’t dare to say while looking in your eyes. 

Your mind goes back to all the times you’ve laid down next to each other and you hope that those will be what you see whenever you think of Sunghoon in the future. The sun not quite ready to call it a day, a slight breeze picking up, the hay a semi-comfortable mattress that sometimes poked you at the back of your neck and arms. Sunghoon right next to you. You were always happy then, hoping you wouldn’t regret anything later. You wouldn’t have known what to do to prevent that anyway.

All you know is you don't want your memory of Sunghoon to be tainted by this moment right now, this moment in which he avoids your gaze and your heart feels heavy because you’re leaving soon and you won’t get to have him in your embrace like this. You want to be happy when you think of him; you don’t want to feel his absence.

“Yeah?” you answer. He still doesn’t look at you, and you get a bit nervous.

He sighs a deep breath like you’ve never seen him do before. “Is it okay if I say something a bit selfish?”

You love him so much. You realize that maybe that’s what you’ll end up regretting. “Go ahead.”

“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” he says, and you almost laugh out of relief.

“That’s not selfish, Hoon. I don’t want to leave, either.” You reach for his hand and he lets you take it, your fingers intertwining immediately as if made to hold each other. To hold onto each other. He still doesn’t look at you, and you know there’s something more there.

“It’s selfish because I’m scared I’ll resent you for leaving,” he says, voice a whisper. 

Ah. There it is.

You squeeze his hand, wordlessly asking him to go on. He takes another breath, a shakier one this time, and he chuckles at the tears he feels pooling in his eyes. “You showed up here out of nowhere and you made me so, so happy. You listened to me and got me to open up, which I usually hate doing. You told me that I was good, that you were proud of me. And now you’re leaving and no one will tell me those things anymore.” The first crack in your heart happens when you hear his voice quiver at the end of his sentence.

“You don’t need me to tell you those things. You know them now, and you have yourself,” you try to reassure him.

The second crack happens when he finally turns to look at you, lips trembling and eyes full of tears. “But I want you to tell me those things.” It takes everything in you to not burst into tears, but you want to be strong for him. For the both of you.

“I can still tell you those things. Phones exist, you know.” A small smile appears on your lips as you try to alleviate the tension. Sunghoon’s eyebrows crease and he pouts his lips; you can tell he doesn’t want to laugh in this moment, but the nudge you give him and your smile make his facade break.

You laugh as he whines, telling you this is a serious moment and to not make him laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say between chuckles and you wrap your arms around him, bringing him to lay his head on your chest. You kiss the top of his head and graze your fingers through his hair. “Laughing is all I can do to stop myself from crying, baby,” you whisper. When you feel a tear roll down your cheek, you add, “And it’s not even working that well.”

Sunghoon buries his face deeper between your breasts and sobs. No more, no less, he sobs, loud, choked sobs that make his whole body shake against yours, and you hold him as tight as you can so that they don’t break him in two. “I’m gonna miss you so much,” he manages to say, and that’s when the third and final crack happens and your heart shatters. It breaks into a million tiny pieces that fall all over your body; some of them make their way to your throat while others travel to the tips of your fingers and others lodge themselves behind your knees or in the pits of your stomach. Your heart breaks into sharp pieces and you feel them piercing under your skin everywhere. You feel like you’re gonna throw up.

You and Sunghoon aren’t even technically dating. You’ve known each for two months. You live far, but not halfway across the world; you can see each other again. You will see each other again. It’s not supposed to hurt that much, yet it hurts even more than that. 

“I know, baby, I know,” you whisper into his hair. “I’ll miss you so much too. But we’ll see each other again, right? Paris isn’t that far away.”

His sobs calm down and you hear him sniffle as he catches his breath. “Paris isn’t far away, but we’ll be worlds apart. You’re going to study and become a doctor, and I’ll stay here. You know what medical school is like, you’re going to be flooded with work for at least four more years. I can’t expect you to stay in touch all the time.”

“Well, it doesn’t need to be all the time, does it? I’d annoy you if it was.”

“You could never annoy me,” he says, and it makes you laugh. He’d never have said this two months ago.

“Plus, I’ll still get time off. I can come back next summer.”

He raises his head to look at you and you can see all the hope and sadness in his puffy eyes. You want to kiss away the tear stains on his cheeks. You want to right everything wrong just to see him smile again. “Next summer?” he echoes in a small voice.

“Next summer,” you promise, a smile you hope is comforting on your lips.

-

Next summer doesn’t work out. The one after that either. Your internship is going swimmingly, and so is his assistantship, and you simply don’t have the time to make a trip all the way down there. A part of you is also worried that if you see him again, you won’t have the force to leave.

Those years you don’t see him, you’re reminded of the ten days you were apart during that summer, and how you’d felt like he’d kept a small piece of your heart with him, because it still feels that way. There’s something that’s keeping you tethered to that summer, something that the strongest scissors or the sharpest knife in the world couldn’t break.

For a short period of time, he was all you needed. But reality quickly seeped back in, and now you needed good grades and then a good job, a decent flat, a decent income. You didn’t need anyone like you needed him, but you still wanted them because even if they weren’t as pretty, or as patient, or as kind as your Sunghoon, they were still good, and sometimes that was all you could ask for. You were always sorry that you couldn’t give them your whole heart, because a piece of it had stayed in the south of France and you didn’t have the courage to march down there and demand it back. Selfishly, you hoped you also kept a piece of Sunghoon’s heart in yours.

You did call once in a while, but those calls made both of you more sad than happy, and after a couple years the calls were so spaced out that they only happened on birthdays and special events. The next time you see him, it’s five years later, at your grandmother’s funeral. You can only stay for three nights and you spend most of your time there with relatives, celebrating your grandmother’s life, so you don’t see him much. When you do, you get to catch up for a few hours. He’s almost done with vet school and he’s specialized in equine studies. He’s an intern at the horse vet in Laroque which means he gets to stay in the center and help his parents out. Yeji is on her way to becoming one of the best in the country, he adds with a proud smile. You’re finishing up your last years as an intern in a Paris hospital, but you haven’t changed your mind about becoming a general practitioner, which you need just a few more years of experience for. You don’t miss how his face falls slightly when you tell him you have a boyfriend and that you’re thinking of getting engaged to him. He tells you he’s happy for you with the saddest eyes. The hug he gives you when you have to leave brings back so many feelings and memories, and even after all these years there’s nothing more that you want to do than stay in his arms and never move again.

You break up with your boyfriend as soon as you get home.

On a random Thursday, you’re done with your decade-long studies, and you’re free to go out into the world, a medical diploma in hand. You get a job in a cabinet owned by a friend of your parents, and you like the job, but you know you’re just passing the time until the opportunity you’ve been waiting for comes around.

Every week, you check whether a spot opens up for a general practitioner in the small town of Laroque-des-Albères. It doesn’t for about eighteen months, until suddenly it does, and in a week you’re packing your bags and taking that trip you took twelve years ago.

Sunghoon doesn’t even know. He could be married with a wife and three kids, for all you know, and it’s foolish but you hope he’s been waiting for you. He’s just finishing up a health check on some of the older horses when you get out of your car, eyes finding him immediately. From the other side of the courtyard, he smiles at you, and it’s like the summer you first fell in love all over again.

permanent taglist: @ozymandia-s @bbujiikseu @sd211 @lalalalawon @sunghoonmybeloved @w3bqrl

© asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, plagiarize or translate my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

#sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #sunghoon angst #enhypen angst #sunghoon au #enhypen au #sunghoon fanfiction #enhypen fanfiction

[if-lost-please-return-to-maliksi]

IVORY GRANITE

Disclaimer: I do not own Maliksi, or Makisig (the Tamawo bros). Full Credit goes to HC - @ask-emilz-de-philz. Please check out their blog for amazing art and the wonderful world of Planet Puto.. All involved characters are adults. This might or might not be a self insert, please don't come for me. TW: Suggestive, Slight NSFW

Unlike the other binibinis that arrived, Maliksi tolerated your presence. Not that he sees you as someone special amongst the women who are there to be a potential surrogate for their kind, but rather your calm and composed attitude is refreshing to see. You did not mindlessly fawn over his brother, Makisig or any other Tamawo like a half-wit human who's a slave to their worldly desires. You just kept patient and let Makisig tend to the other ladies first- you are not in a rush afterall since time flows differently in Biringan City. You spent your first week roaming around, exploring, relaxing, and to Maliksi's amuzement- just enjoying being there. "Hey, not gonna throw a tantrum like the other gal earlier? My Kuya's comforting his... 5th binibini for today." Maliksi asked nonchalantly, a lollipop stuffed in his cheek as he plays video games in the living room, sulking since his older brother is too busy giving attention to the ladies instead of spending time with him. "Nope, I've been fully informed of everyone's set up here, thanks for asking though." You softly chuckled before taking note of how bored and irritated Maliksi looks. "Need a player 2?" He reluctantly throws one controller at you, which you were able to catch. "Tch. Make sure you don't suck or I'm taking that back." That single interaction was the start of an unlikely acquaintanceship between the two. Maliksi never liked humans, but this one- this small, soft, and friendly human is kinda tolerable to be around with, not that he will admit it. You were always easy to talk to, you were always soft and kind to him, despite him being not so friendly most of the time. You were able to sense if he's been having an extra difficult day, not getting angry when he's too snarky and sharp with his words. Of course those words don't just go unnoticed, it's still annoying to be honest. That is why he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide open the first time he heard you talk back to his sarcasm and rude remarks. "Say that again." Maliksi gritted his teeth. He was having a bad day after some binibini started acting up that his Kuya Makisig needed to cancel their video game night for the third time this week. He knows he's being rude to you but he's too prideful to take it back. "I said, you're a jerk for being all snarky and mean to me when I didn't do anything wrong to you!" You slightly raise your voice, brows furrowed in annoyance. You could've stopped there, but you were just mad at how unfair he is, using you as someone he can just talk down to whenever he's having a bad day. "This is why the other ladies mess with you purposely every chance they get! Your Kuya must've been tired of hearing them rant about your trashy attitude all day long. Maybe I should-" "Should what? Do the same as the others? Act like a goddamn brat?" Maliksi scoffed. "My Kuya doesn't do anything about brats...but I do." Maliksi coldly said, looking at you dead in the eye.

"Do what? Think I'm scared of you, Maliksi? I think you're all bark and no bite! Just a little spoiled brother waiting for his kuya to give him love and attention -" Before you knew it, Maliksi was already dragging you into his own room, bending you over his lap before lifting the hem of your dress up, slapping one of his hands on your behind, staining your skin red with his handprint. 

"Count." Maliksi said in a cold tone.You let out a soft yelp as his palms made contact with your backside once again.

"M- Maliksi." You softly whined, biting your lips from the slight pain. "Oh, not too happy to be disciplined, huh? I said f*cking count, brat!" he said as he gave you another slap. "Three.." You softly said, tears slowly forming in your eyes and you're not sure if it's from the sting from where his palms made contact on your behind, or from the humiliation of being disciplined like this. "I can't hear you, missy." "Four.." "Five.." He didn't stop until you were sobbing, saying your apologies for yelling at him in between sniffles.

"How many was that, Y/n?" He softly said, his tone gentle as he rubs his hand soothingly on your red stained skin. "T..Ten."

"That's right. Have you learned your lesson? You're not gonna give me attitude now, yes?" You slowly nodded.. "That's my y/n. Now be a good girl and let my fingers and tongue apologize for being rude to you earlier." 

[sim0nril3y]

Omg I love this series so much 😭 you’re an amazing writer!

I was wondering how things would go down if perhaps the reader was being stalked by their ex or something like that? Please don’t feel like you have to answer this if it makes you uncomfortable or anything like that! Thank you so much for reading this and I hope you have a wonderful day! 💚

Firstly, thank you so much! You are so sweet, friend! Secondly, oooh, that is super interesting! Please find answer to your request below. Warnings: Stalking behavouir, slight smut (nothing too graphic just a little something), canon-typical swearing.

I think initially it might be something that the reader might try to hide from him. Like, this is embarrassing or thinking Simon might think it is too trivial or that you’re overreacting. So, maybe you don’t tell him at first, but he’s intuitive, right? He’ll start to notice that you’re using the bolt on the door in your flat more often, locking your windows which is strange because you usually have them thrown open to stop your flat smelling like art supplies, looking over your shoulder a little more when you’re walking beside him. The biggest red flag for him is when you ask if he’ll start dropping you to and from work. You have never once asked him to do that since being in a relationship. Regardless he agrees and notices that you a little more relaxed when he’s around.

It isn’t until he’s picking you up from work one night that Simon notices that you’re in conversation. He’ll frown, hands gripping the steering wheel before recognising that panicked look on your face. Stalking towards you two Simon will start to pick up small pieces of conversation. “We’re over.” You need to leave me alone.” “I’ve moved on.” It didn’t take a genius to pick up that you were familiar with this person, there was a history here. You’d both shared that awkward conversation about past relationships, maybe this was Francis. “There a problem here?” Simon steps behind you, placing a protective hand on your waist instinctually.

God, it’s fucking good to notice the way that you calm in his presence, instantly looking less tense and even stepping back towards him accepting that protective aura. “Who the fuck is this?” The man in front of him gestures to Simon who is all too happy to inform him. “I’m her fucking partner.” He bit out, hands securing tighter on his waist, moving her to his side rather than in front of him giving him the ability to intervene swiftly if this lad decides to do anything stupid. “Who the fuck wants to know?” Simon could see the disappointed on Francis’ face, he could see the anger and the betrayal.

It didn’t come to blows that night and by the time Simon took you home he had gotten all the details. You had noticed Francis had been hanging around your work a few times, mostly saying he was there drinking with friends, but you’d never noticed him with anyone. It was something you had chalked up to coincidence, but started to get more worried as you noticed him showing up when you were shopping and then even spotting him at the carpark outside your flat. It had startled you.

“Why didn’t you tell me, love?” Sat on the sofa in your flat he took your hands so gently and squeezed them. “I could’ve nipped this in the bud quickly.” “I don’t want you getting into fights for me, Simon.” Your voice was tiny and he allowed a quiet sigh to pull from him before tugging you into his strong body, rubbing your back comfortingly and replying evenly. “Nothing is too trivial.”

That night Simon spent time making you feel safe in your own home again, making you a tea, running you a bath, watching some trashy reality show you enjoyed, eating your sweet cunt on the sofa, messy and passionate, grunting at the taste and never taking his eyes off your writhing form. Then once done he put you to bed peacefully, soft kiss on the forehead. He couldn’t sleep though, not with that twat still out there. No, he needed backup on this and knew instantly who to call. Price knew someone that might be able to find some intel for him, he'd make some contacts and get back to him – that was a promise. Price knew that if Simon was asking for help, then it must have been serious, he didn’t pry and he didn’t question, simply agreed, like he knew Simon would do for him if the situation was reversed.

Keeping to his word Price gave him all the details that Simon would need for Francis including his work and home address. Not wasting any time Simon stopped by his workplace the next morning, sat in the carpark and just waiting, watching as Francis eerily felt like he was being watched, just how you had felt, that same eking paranoia eating away into the back of his mind. The torture Simon inflicted was slow and sweet, for weeks he would keep a very close eye on Francis and leaving enough evidence around his home that Francis knew someone was watching him, but never being able to catch him. All this meant that you hadn’t seen anything of Francis either, you went back to living your normal life, completely unaware of what Simon was doing all the while.

Once it was finally time to put this all to an end Simon put his mask to good use along with a dark alley that Francis had walked down. With a hard yank Simon forced him up against the brick wall. “Not nice being followed, is it?” The boy trembled in his hands. “Listen to me, boy. If I ever catch you lingering ‘round near my missus again I’ll make sure no one sees you again. Am I clear?” Simon didn’t even need to say you name aloud for Francis to understand who he was being warned away from. “Am I clear?!”

“Yes! Yes! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll… you’ll never seen me again! I swear! I swear!” Throwing him to the ground Simon swiftly left the area, stashing his trusty mask and tact gear in the car before driving to pick you up from work. This would be the end of it, Simon was sure. Now at least you could return to your regular life without needing to look over your shoulder. Honestly, dealing with a troublesome ex-boyfriend was just the tip of the iceberg of what he was willing to do for you. His main priority was you living a happy and full life and he’d be damned if you weren’t going to do that.

Ask | Masterlist | 30-08-2023

#ghost mw2 #ghost imagine #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #ghost x oc #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #simon riley cod

[thebigbadbatswife]

Internal Conflict (Part 2 of 3)

Pairing - Batman x F!Hero!Reader Series - Under Your Skin Part 1 here | Part 3 here

Summary - Following the aftermath of your fight with the Dark Knight, you end up recieving a call from him asking you for help on one of his cases. Making you wonder, just what is he up to?

Warnings - Canon typical violence, brief mention of death, major character injury, blood. (If I somehow missed a TW, lmk!)

A/N - Since for October I'll be posting what I've written for Kinktober, Part 3 will be coming sometime during Novemeber simply so it isn't lost in the wave of fics! As always hope you enjoy! 💜

Taglist - At the end of the fic. Please message me if you would like to be added/removed.

Word Count - 5.1k

You sighed softly as you wrapped the towel around your body and walked out of the bathroom. The blinds were open, allowing the early morning sunlight to stream into your bedroom. Something that your cat was taking full advantage of as he was fully stretched out across your bed. You chuckled as you briefly stopped to ruffle his fur, earning you a small chirp as his eyes opened and he greeted you.

“How about some breakfast?” He perked up at that, meowing as he got back up onto his paws and followed you from the bedroom to the kitchen.

Today was going to be a good day, you had decided. Not even Batman was going to get you down. Not that he had been doing much in the ways of talking, or arguing, with you anyway. Of course that was likely down to how good you had become at avoiding him or making sure you had left the room before anyone else. Now the only time he spoke to you was during briefing, the middle of a mission or debriefing.

The injury that you had sustained during Lex’s attack had not only kept you away from your usual superhero duties, but had left quite the scar. Some of your focus over the past few weeks had been on healing and slowly building your strength back up, following the advice that Black Canary had given you. Though you had no actual proof, you suspected that the advice had actually come from Batman. Why he hadn’t just given it to you direct, you didn’t understand. You might hate his guts, but he was still a teammate. And a teammate who was very knowledgeable when it came to the medical side of things. If he had any advice to give in regards to that, then you would listen.

The rest of your focus had been on your equipment and future suits. It was important, not only to be prepared, but to stay a few steps ahead of the bad guys.

Now that your leg was fully healed, you would be returning to the Watchtower today. Though had been talking to everyone, other than Batman, through the group chat that The Flash had set up, it wasn’t the same as seeing everyone in person. You had also missed kicking bad guys’ asses and doing your best to make the world a little bit better.

After you had gotten your cat his breakfast, you proceeded to make yourself something and sat down on your couch. It was rare that you were awake this early. Typically waking up either right before or right after midday. You were curious of what sort of trashy tv was on at this time in the morning. As you flipped through the channels, you came across a talkshow that had Bruce Wayne on as their guest star. You didn’t have a clue as to what had been said, but the host was laughing rather hard. With nothing else to watch, you decided to leave it on while you ate. Besides, he was very easy on the eyes. He was a man that you certainly wouldn’t throw out of your bed.

You scoffed and shook your head. Damn. Was this really what you were doing? Fantasising about a well known womanising billionaire? Dammit, you really needed to get out more. It was just a shame that the superhero lifestyle didn’t really allow for that. You switched the tv off and focused on finishing your breakfast. It wasn’t going to do you any good to dwell on things like that. The life that you had choses was a good one, even if it did get lonely at times.

Once you were finished with breakfast, and had finally gotten dressed, you walked over to your bookcase and pulled on rather inconspicuous book. There were several clicking noises and the bookcase slid back before sliding to the side, revealing a hidden elevator. You stepped inside and pressed one of two buttons. As the doors slid shut, the bookcase slid back into place.

The elevator trip was a long one. It had to be to get from your apartment all the way down to the hidden basement of this building. The money wasn’t yours. At least it hadn’t always been yours. The money, the company, the real estate. All of it had been your father’s, but after his untimely death everything he’d had landed into your lap. 

Your father’s death had been the catalyst to your new life as a crimefighter. That was a day that you didn’t like to dwell on for too long. Besides today was supposed to be a good day and it very well couldn’t be if you were wishing you could change the past.

The doors of the elevator dinged as they opened up into your base. It wasn’t the most hightech place, especially when compared to a place like the Watchtower, but it did everything you needed it do. And you weren’t looking to upgrade it right now.

A large black box sat on the centre table. The sight of it made you smile. You had forgotten that was down here. Your new suit. You hadn’t had a chance to try it on before Luthor had injured you. Well what better time to debut it than now?

Your smile was big as you checked yourself out in the mirror. Your friend had done well. Very well. From the colours to the new kevlar weave, it was a hell of a lot better than your last one. And it should hold up nicely against bald rich men and their overly large mechs. Mechs that were definitely compensating for something.

Once you had gone through your gear, making sure you had everything you needed, you left your base and headed for the nearest zeta tube.

The Watchtower was quiet when you arrived. Which wasn’t a surprise, with how early it was. You imagined people had either already gone home, after working all night, or were slowly waking up. Being mindful of that, you kept your steps light and made you way toward the breakroom. As you entered the room you were greeted with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Other than yourself the only other person in the breakroom was Black Canary.

In recent months you and her had become quite close. So close, in fact, that you knew each other’s secret identities. After all, you weren’t just coworkers or allies, you were friends. And it felt good to have friends that you could share the burdens of a superhero life with. As much as you trusted your friend that made your suits, at the same time you knew that there were lots of things that she couldn’t understand. 

“Welcome back,” Dinah greeted you as you entered the room. “There’s coffee, if you want any.”

“Thanks, it feels good to be back,” you replied. You made your way over to the coffee machine and poured yourself a cup before joining her at the table.

The two of you spent the morning catching up with each other. It felt good to finally catch up with each other in person. It really wasn’t the same using text on a screen. As you chatted, the door to the breakroom opened and in walked Batman. You took a long drink from your cup, keeping your focus on what Dinah was saying, pretending that he wasn’t there. He didn’t stay in the breakroom for long. Grabbing himself some coffee before leaving again.

She looked between you and the closed door. You thought she was going to ask you what was going on there, you knew the question had to be everyone’s minds. The two of you go from being at each other’s throats to not speaking whatsoever? She didn’t though.

“Me, Ollie and Hal are going to a bar later tonight, if you want to come along as well?” she offered.

It sounded good; a night out with your friends. It had been awhile since you had last been out. Maybe that was what you needed. To go out, get drunk and maybe end up waking up next to a stranger. Something that might help in you in forgetting how it had felt to have sex with him.

You nodded. “Yeah, that sounds great. I would love to. You know, as long as no supervillain tries world domination again.” 

Dinah chuckled at that.

The bar was far quieter than you had thought it was going to be. It didn’t look like you were going to be taking anyone back to your hotel room tonight. Which was fine. You were here to hang out with your friends after all. While Dinah, Oliver and Hal had ordered themselves some beers, you had opted for just a soda. The more you had thought about it, the more you hadn’t wanted to get drunk. You would rather to keep a clear and focused mind. Maybe next time.

Right now the four of you were laughing at Hal’s rather on point impression of Batman. You shook your head, smiling, and calming yourself down long enough to take a sip of your drink. After weeks of being cooped up, using the majority of your free time to focus on future equipment blueprints and potential future materiels to use, while your leg had healed, it felt good to be out with them.

Oliver raised his beer bottle to his lips, frowning when he found it empty. “I’m gonna go and get us another round,” he announced as he got up and turned to head toward the bar.

“I’ll help you,” Hal said very abruptly, going after him.

You frowned. That was… strange. What was going on with him? That was when you saw it, out of the corner of your eye, Dinah moving, leaning in close to you, so that no one would overhear. Now you understood.

“You and Batman. Spill.”

You looked at her like she had just grown horns. You scoffed. “What do you mean “spill”? You’ve seen the arguments. Everyone one has. What else is there to talk about?”

She raised an eyebrow at you. It was more than clear that she didn’t believe a word you were saying. “Right. That’s why you both disappeared for hours at a time afterward hmmm? Because there’s nothing else to talk about?”

Okay. It was clear to you that she definitely knew what happened between you and Batman, but how? Had she somehow overheard the two of you? Mentally, you shook your head. It didn’t matter how close you were with her, you would still rather forget what had happened between you and Batman and talking to her about it wouldn’t help. Before anything else could be said, Oliver and Hal returned to the table, drinks in hand.

“And what were you two talking about?” Oliver asked as he set down his and Dinah’s drinks, while Hal set down his and yours. You thanked him.

“Nothing, just some girl talk,” she replied. You nodded in agreement with her before taking a sip of your drink.

The rest of the night went by quickly. The situation between you and Batman wasn’t brought up again, but you didn’t believe that Oliver and Hal were oblivious to the situation. The timing of their leaving and Dinah’s questions were too much of a coincidence. It made you wonder how many more Leaguers were aware of it. 

As the night came to a close, they walked you back to the zeta tube. Since you weren’t having a one night stand tonight, you figured you may as well just go back to your apartment.

You were curled up on your couch, underneath a fleece with a bowl of popcorn on your lap. You were watching a movie you had been meaning to watch for a while now, but had just never got around to it. Until now. It had felt good to go out with your friend, but it had completely drained your social battery. You needed to recharge, so to speak. And this was the perfect way to do so.

You were about halfway through the movie when the phone you had specifically for League only business, started to ring. It was for emergencies, in case that you weren’t on the Watchtower ro away from home. You paused the movie and picked up the phone, growing when you saw who was calling you. Batman? There were plenty of other Leaguers available tonight, so why you?

You pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. He was a teammate and he needed help.

“Where are you?” you asked as soon as you had answered the phone. There wasn’t any time to waste if he was in trouble.

“There’s an old amusement park, just outside of Gotham.” He sounded winded. Something you were sure that you had only picked up on because of you… time together.

“I’m on my way.”

The sight of the amusement park had the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. It just seemed… wrong. A place that was supposed to be filled with people, lights and laughter was dark, devoid of life and decaying. It was unsettling. The fog drifting in certainly wasn’t helping with that.

You stayed down and kept your steps light as you stalked through the park, looking for Batman. You wouldn’t lie, it confused you a lot. Why he would call you, of all people, for help. Hell, the fact that he had called for help to begin with. You had heard the stories from the other Leaguers. How is stubbornness to handle things all by himself had nearly killed him more than once. Not to mention that he had made his feeling about you more than perfectly clear. So why had he asked you for help? Especially when there were other Leaguers that he not only liked more, but had more experience with this sort of thing than you did. There were plenty of them on standby. You knew because you had double checked, in case the two of you weren’t enough for whatever this threat was.

You thought about asking him why, once you found him, but you dismissed it almost as quickly as it had come to mind. He wouldn’t tell you even if you did. There was no point in wasting your breath.

The old rides groaned and creaked. Chains, whose purpose had been long forgotten rattled and banged against various makeshift poles and equally rusted poles. The cleaning noise echoing around you. The shadowy remains of the rollercoaster loomed high above you, like the unnatural skeleton of some giant creature. If you hadn’t been unsettled before, you certainly were now.

Voices ahead caught your attention. They were loud and distressed. Like they had been attacked. You had a good feeling you knew by who. Sticking to the shadows, you slowly began to creep toward them. Through the fog, two silhouettes started to take shape ahead of you, but before you could get closer, someone grabbed you. An arm wrapped around your waist white the other covered your mouth, pulling you to the side and keeping you secured against a muscular chest. Your instincts had kicked in and you attempted to fight against the person who had grabbed you, not stopping to think who it might actually be. You stopped when you heard his voice.

“It’s me.” His voice was deep and gravelly, sending goosebumps across your skin. You were thankful your suit didn’t show any skin.

Even as you stopped fighting, your body remained tense. You stayed still and silent. The two of you watched as the two figures, two henchmen dressed in black and red, rushed past. They were yelling at how Batman must have gone in the direction they were headed, completely unaware that in their hurry they had run past him and you. When they were gone, their footsteps fading, he released his grip on you. Now free, you spun around to face him.

You were so close together, lips centimetres apart. If either of you moved forward just a little bit they would meet…

You snapped out of it immediately and backed away from him, putting space between you both. What the hell where you thinking? This was not the time or place to be thinking with anything other than you brain. Especially with him, of all people.

“What’s going on?” you asked, making sure to keep your voice low.

He gestured with his head for you to follow him before he moved away from the wall, continuing down the makeshift alleyway. 

“I’ve been investigating the recent super villain attacks,” he started to explain as he led you through the park. “So many happening so close together is too much for it to be a coincidence.”

You stuck to the shadows and kept low. The henchmen were on high alert, from their run in with Batman. You were sure that their trigger fingers were itching, ready to fire at anything that looked just a little bit like a bat.

“They’re connected?” While you had found the attacks a little strange, you hadn’t found it so strange to have thought that they might be connected.

He nodded and looked over his shoulder at you. “Tonight should prove that.” Then he turned back and continued leading you.

Batman didn’t elaborate further. Not that that wasn’t unexpected. He had a thing for being cryptic. That was something you had learned quickly after joining the League. The amusement park was crawling with henchmen as well. Too much talking and you could definitely end up drawing some very much unwanted attention. Being silent for the time being would be best.

Still, it was gnawing at you. Why had he asked for your help? There was a part of you that really wanted to know. You remembered the night in Star City vividly. The words said, how he had snapped at you. Showing his true colours. Similar fights had broken out on the Watchtower, more often than not involving him and Hal. As far as you knew he had never called him for assistance. Especially when there were other Leaguers he preferred working with. Then it hit you. Was this his way of attempting to start over with you? 

The two of you soon came to a funhouse. Which, unlike the rest of the park, was seemingly devoid of life entirely. The quiet though. It didn’t feel natural.

Batman rose a hand as he stopped in his tracks, stopping you at the same time.

“Something’s wrong,” he stated, voice low.

“Definitely,” you agreed with him for once. “Could it be a trap?”

“Maybe. Stick close.”

You nodded and followed him into the funhouse.

Floorboards creaked beneath your feet. Some of them felt like they were about to break beneath your weight. So you kept your steps as light as possible, hoping to avoid that. You didn’t want to reinjure your leg. There was a strong stench of wood rot and mould, making you wrinkle your noise in disgust. The further into the funhouse that you got, the worse the smells started to get.

After walking through a couple of rooms that had clearly been gutted, you and Batman came to a hallway full of mirrors. The distorted mirrors coerced the walls and ceiling. They were either cracked or broken, glass littering the floor, cracking and crunching beneath your boots. He came to a stop before one of the broken mirrors, something catching his eye, and stepped through it. You followed after him, careful of the jagged pieces of glass that were still attached to the frame.

There was a short hallway behind the mirror, with a door at the end of it. Likely for employees back when this place was still operational. Batman had already dropped down onto one knee, lockpicking equipment in hand, working on the door’s lock. You kept watch, listening for anyone who might potentially be headed this way. A few minutes later, you heard the door creak open.

It hadn’t been open for even a few seconds before the smell hit you. It had you coughing hard and gagging, though nothing came up. You covered your nose with your arm, hoping to try and block out some of the smell. It felt like it was all over you, coating your hair, skin and the inside of your throat and nose. You had no idea if you were ever going to be able to get it off of you. It was a smell of rot, but not like what you had been breathing in throughout the funhouse so far. This was far, far worse. The only thing you could think was that this was what death must smell like. Which had your stomach churning.

Other than a few coughs when the door first opened, Batman didn’t seem to be overly effected by the smell. It made you wonder just how many times he had to have encountered the stench before for it to not effect him as much as it was effecting you. You were about to ask him to confirm that what you thought you were smelling was exactly that, when you were stopped by the sound of laughter.

“Are those—”

“Hyenas? Yes,” he cut you off. “Two of them, to be exact. Stay close.”

Hyenas? Who of Gotham’s criminals kept hyenas again? You racked your brain for the answer. It came to you as you followed him further in. Harley Quinn. She kept hyenas. You were only aware of that because everytime she did something it was big, televised and all over social media.

“Harley Quinn is here?” 

“Most likely, but even if she’s not here currently she would have left something behind,” he replied. “Either way we should stay on high alert. She’s become even more dangerous since Joker’s death.”

“Didn’t she kill him?” 

“Yes, in a slaughter house. There wasn’t much left of him.”

Though he didn’t go into detail, your mind unprovoked conjured up an image of what likely happened, making you cringe. 

“You saw?”

He was silent for a moment before finally answering you. “Yes. I arrived too late to stop her.”

As you continued deeper into the funhouse, the smell of rot grew stronger, making you gag again. The hyenas’ laughter had stopped by now, which made you even more anxious. At least before, when they were making noise, you could have pinpointed where they were.

After walking down a maze fo corridors that all looked the same as each other, the two of you soon came to a room where the smell was it’s strongest. It wasn’t hard to see why. You didn’t know what this room would have been when the funhouse was being used, but now it had a large cage in the centre of it. There were two hyenas with spiked collars with in the cage, surrounded by bones and fighting over a piece of meat. It looked fresh, meaning they had been fed recently. Harley was probably close by then.

The bigger of the two won the fight and ran of with its prize. While the smaller one now had its attention fixed on you and Batman. Its ears came forward as it sniffed the air intensely. You were grateful for the bars the stood between you and the hyenas.

There was a couple of desks shoved into the corner of the the room, piled with various papers and files and there was a map of Gotham attached to a corkboard, sitting just above the desks. While you had been focused on Harley’s pets, Batman had already made his way over to the desk and was going through the papers.

“She stole them from the zoo an hour afterwards,” he answered your unasked question, like he could read your mind.

You nodded and moved away from the cage, deciding to help him go through the papers to help him. Only for him to bat your hands way and glaring at you for getting in his way.

“Only trying to help!” you snapped.

“Then keep watch,” he grumbled, looking way from you and continuing to focus on the task at hand.

Folding your arms across your chest, your turned away from the desk to survey the rest of the room. If Harley was still around, after feeding the hyenas, she wasn’t going to be getting the drop on the two of you. As you kept watch, you listened to the way he was sutling through the papers.

Wondering what was taking so long, you briefly looked over your shoulder, watching how he shuffled through the papers and kept looking up at the map. Trying to match the information with the scribbles perhaps? Before you could think to ask, his head snapped up and you found yourself being thrown across the room.

You hit the floor, hard. Pain radiated through your arm and ribs at how awkward your landing was. Your arm, thankfully, hadn’t been broken in the fall, but with the way your ribs hurt from just shallow breaths you figured a couple of them had to be broken. As you pushed yourself up from the ground, hissing as your arm protested, you looked back over to where you had just been standing.

Batman laid on the floor, completely still, whilst Harley Quinn stood over him, an almost comically large mallet in her hands. How the hell was she carrying that thing, let alone managing to swing it?

She looked away from his body and over to you.

“Who are you? Batsy’s newest sidekick or just the stand in until Catwoman comes back?” she taunted, a smile on her face.

You pushed down the anger you could feel rising in you at her comment. You couldn’t let her get a rise out of you. Doing so could, and most likely would, get both you and Batman killed. If that initial hit from the mallet hadn’t already killed him. You really hoped that it hadn’t. One of your hands came up to your utility belt and pressed the SOS button there. Though you were sure you could take Harley on, Batman was still in need of serious and immediate medical attention and you seriously doubted you would be able to haul him out of here by yourself.

“The silent type like him huh? Ugh, how boring!” She rolled her eyes.

She charged for you, her mallet at the ready. You waited until the last second to jump out of the way. The resulting swing made Harley stumble and almost fall over. While she had the strength to lift and swing the mallet, her control over it seemed to depend whether or not she hit someone with it. You could work with that.

You kept light on your feet, dodging each of her swing. The aim right now was to try to tire her out, before you got tired yourself. Which would hopefully give you an opening to take her out.

“Stop moving!” she yelled as you dodged again. The time, instead of hitting air, the mallet smashed into the door of the cage. The door squeaked as it swung open and banged against the bars of the cage. She laughed manically and pointed at you. “Babies! Get her!”

The hyenas whooped and giggled as they ran out of their cage, baring their teeth as the headed straight for you. You didn’t want to hurt them, at the same time you really didn’t fancy getting ripped apart by them. You narrowly avoided the bigger on as it lunged for you and kicked out at the other one, trying to force it back. You went to reach for your belt, but a gunshot rang out, making you jump.

“Uh uh uh! My babies can’t use flash grenades so neither can you! The next bullet goes into your leg if I see you reaching for that pesky belt again!” Harley was now sat on one of the desks. Her mallet was propped up next to it and a gun in her hand. Batman was still laying on the ground, unmoving. God, you wished he would just spring back up and surprise her. But he wasn’t going to. This was all up to you.

The hyenas were well coordinated, doing their best to get you to jump back into either one of their jaws. Which you really didn’t want. You could smell the rotten meat stuck deep within their sharp teeth. You were sure that a single bite from either of them would likely be singing your death certificate. The longer this went on for the more chance they had to do that. You were going to be bitten if you didn’t find a way to either render them unconscious or scare them. 

As you did your best to avoid the hyenas, you were getting closer and closer to Harley. Who was getting more and more annoyed that her “babies” hadn’t ripped you apart yet. Taking both her and the hyenas by surprise, you darted forward and grabbed the mallet, doing your very best to swing it. It hit one of the hyenas, making it yelp as it slid across the floor. When it climbed back up onto its feet, it ran out of the room, the other one following close behind. You let go of the mallet and it hit the floor with a loud thump.

“How dare you!” she screamed, the gun she held was now pointed directly at you. Though you jumped out of the way as she pulled the trigger, pain flared through your side. Ignoring the pain in your side, you darted forward again. Disarming her with a kick and slamming her head down into the desk, successfully knocking her out cold.

Your hand went to your side and when you pulled it away again, it was covered in your blood.

“Fuck,” you muttered, pressing your hand back against your side. You really hoped that the bullet hadn’t hit anything vital.

After handcuffing her, you left Harley laying where she was and dropped down by Batman’s side. “You had better not be dead,” you told him. Using your non-bloodied hand, you slipped it beneath his cowl to get to his neck. You sighed in relief when you finally found his pulse. You removed your hand and slumped against the desk. Now all you had to do was wait for help to arrive and hope that her thugs or hyenas didn’t end up coming back beforehand.

So much for today being a good day.

*

Taglist - @the-last-twin-of-krypton @bakugous-bakahoe @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople @little-rivers @callalily2000 @geminicinderella @warsaur @theclassicvinyldragon @aniya7 @bluebear19 @jdream55 @thedeadlythoughts

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batman x fem!reader #batman imagine #bruce wayne imagine #under your skin verse #my writing

[valhallaas]

A Love Like Religion

Coming Down by Halsey

Pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x Joker!reader

Word Count: 4.7k

warnings: SMUT: (18+ minors, dni) dom!jake, brattysub!reader, degradation kink, light orgasm denial, overstimulation, spanking, daddy kink, choking, oral (female receiving), p in v, creampie (wrap it up pals)

Summary: jake likes when you’re mean, but god, you love when he’s meaner.

A/N: it’s me, hi, i’m the problem. i am so in love with this. it is by far the dirtiest thing i’ve ever written and jake absolutely deserves it. i think i might make a part 2, but we’ll see--play it by ear. as always, feedback is so so so appreciated. i hope you guys enjoy it!

While not a lot of people would agree, there’s something about being in Lemoore. You go one way and there’s the mountains, you go the other and you know you’ll hit ocean water. On top of the Central Valley being one of the top agricultural producers of the country. That being said, there isn’t a whole lot to do.

Well, that isn’t exactly true. There is something. Someone.

Hangman’s grin splits his face when he sees you enter the common room. His eyes light up like the fourth of July. It sends a heat through you, makes the muscles in your lower stomach clench tight. You haven’t seen him in months, almost a year. Seeing him here when you didn’t even know he’d be has your mind spinning. You feel dizzy, slightly sick. Your face must show it because his smile loses some of its luster, but the cockiness remains. Of course it does. It’s Jake fucking Seresin we’re talking about.

“Well well well, as I live and breathe. Nice to see you, Joker.”

But is it really? A lick of betrayal runs up your spine. If you could even call it that. Really what you feel is jealousy. You feel scorned. You feel like you’ve been fucking cheated on and it’s eating you alive. You can’t bring yourself to play his games. Maybe when you pull yourself together. When you can face him and there isn’t a stinging sensation at the back of your eyes. You’re a big girl, you’ll figure it out.

Your gaze lingers, burns into him, your eyebrow twitches when he shifts under your unyielding gaze. He does it because it’s not like you. Or it is, just not in public. Your lips shift, and you can feel it. The tension pouring out of you, you bask in it. Turning from him, without acknowledging him is going to light a fire you’re sure would scorch you later. A group of familiar faces greet you on the other side of the room. Time passes slowly. You’re keeping yourself here, but you’re not sure why. It isn’t like he won’t find you wherever you are.

Everyone at the table is bursting with laughter. It’s friday night and everyone is gearing up to head out for drinks. You cringe at the idea. Someone had mentioned Fresno and you’d rather die. It’s time to head in. A bottle of wine. A trashy romcom. You’ll be fine. You always are.

“Joker, are you coming?”

Uh, what? You weren’t really expecting them to want you to come. Digging your teeth into your bottom lip, you go to respond before someone else does for you.

“Nah, she ain’t going.” You glare at the side of Hangman’s head.

“What do you mean?” Hyena asks, looking between the two of you.

“Do you know why Joker got her name?”

You cannot stop the eyeroll that overcomes you. You want to stab him in his perfect fucking face with a pencil, snap it off in his eye.

“Uh, because she’s a fucking hoot?” Malibu says from behind you.

“No. Because she doesn’t know how to take a joke. She’s got a permanent stick up her ass.”

Your hands clench and unclench at your sides. Yep. That’s what they say. You follow the rules. You don’t cave under peer pressure. If someone says something that’s not funny, you’re not laughing just to make them feel better. People called you abrasive, stuck up, a bitch. Or in the words of Jake Seresin, a fucking brat.

You nod your head, not disagreeing. Hangman’s eyebrows shoot upwards, clearly surprised. Shifting, you rest your elbow on the arm of the couch, hand in palm as you level a searing gaze at him. A gaze that tells him you know something that he never thought you’d find out. With a small tilt of your head, your lips pull up in a shy smirk.

“Don’t talk about my ass, bagman. But, speaking of call signs, I heard you went on a date recently.” His eyes widen, grip tightening on the back of the couch. “Heard it didn’t go too well. Heard you couldn’t make Banshee live up to her name.”

You can’t hide the fire in your eyes, the anger in your voice. You’re dripping with accusations. The tone you're taking on is a warning. A demand. You’re begging. The girls around you burst into giggles. Checkmate. They add on to your taunt. Talking about how he can’t get it up. Big talk for such a little man. The both of you know that it’s not true, but they didn’t need to know that. You aren’t an ‘established relationship’ it’s more of when you happen to be together you’re together. It’s been that way for years—since you graduated from top gun. The stinging sensation is back. You blink, swallowing before standing to your feet. You don’t meet anybody’s gaze, keeping your head down, wiping your hands against your pants, dying to get rid of the sudden clamminess.

“Anyway,” you say lightly, pulling the girls’ attention back to you. “I’m heading home.”

“Jo, you need to come out with us,” Malibu begs, her hand catching your wrist before you could pull away. “We need to get you laid.”

A  snort leaves you, eyes widening at the idea of a stranger touching you. Instantly you yank yourself away from her. “Yeah, no. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Hyena and Malibu grumble, but leave it. They’re suspicious. Never have you gone home with someone from a bar. Never have you woken up to a stranger sleeping next to you. Your shoes were not made for the walk of shame. Giving them a warm smile, you meet Hangman’s gaze when you turn and your smile brightens. His expression is stern, eyes hard, teeth clenched. With a wink you say your goodbyes and head home.

You like California. Wish the coast was closer, but this is fine. You live an hour off base. Separation from work and home, even if it means there's a commute. The sun is just setting when you finally get to the small little house with the white picket fence. It’s a cliche, but you don’t mind. Going about your routine, you light your candles, turn on the two lamps in your living room. You’ve got music playing on low, you’re walking around your kitchen to prepare dinner with a glass of wine in hand. It’s the first time you've been home in months. It’s the first time you’ve let yourself relax, but there was no release. The tension was still there. It had nothing to do with the mission. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board echoes through your mind, a reminder of what you’re doing. Setting the knife down you realize your hands are shaking.

It’s Jake. Of course it is. He’s the only person who has ever been able to put you on edge like this. He only spoke two sentences to you. But it’s his presence. It’s domineering, it’s controlling, it’s cocky and you love every second he’s around you. Even if sometimes you wish you could smack him upside the head. Like right now. You’re angry and you’re hurt. It’s eating you up inside because you’ve given yourself up. Given everything to him and–god, you’re such a fool to pay that price. You want more, always want more of him. That doesn’t mean he wants or needs you.

** You’re ringing out your hair when you hear the front door open. Heavy footsteps move throughout the house, creaking on loose floorboards. Did you have the energy for this right now? You may have had one too many glasses of wine. Meaning, you drank the whole damn bottle. Pulling a shirt from one of the drawers, you glance at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are red rimmed, cheeks blotchy. Sighing, you go to pull the worn shirt over your head.

“Don’t even think about it.” You lift your gaze to meet Jake’s in the mirror. Your eyebrow twitches as his teeth clench, not missing his wandering eyes. “I have plans for you, you fucking brat.”

You snort. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You like to talk don’t you, Jo?”

“Talk is cheap, and word travels fast. Faster than you thought it would, apparently.”

“You jealous Joker?” Jake says with a growing smirk.

Rage burned hot and heavy in your chest. Your hands shake and your lip snarls. If he wants to fucking fight, you’ll bring a goddamn war.

“No, not jealous.” A fucking lie. It tastes bitter on your tongue. “Wouldn’t want to feed your ego.”

Your body relaxes when you feel the brush of him against your back. The bedroom isn’t all that big. Jake stands behind you, invading your space, warming you up, and swallowing you whole. There is nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. You're at his mercy, one hand clenching the shirt–his shirt from a long past concert, and your other hand on the dresser. Your knees wobble, threatening to buckle at any given moment.

“I missed you, sweetheart.”

You smile at the nickname. “I bet you did.”

His hand comes down on your naked ass cheek with sudden force. “Brat.”

You grin at him through the mirror. If you weren’t as close as you were, you’d have missed the way his breath hitched. You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips. You’re exhausted. When he grabs at your hips, you know you’re done for. Your eyes shut when his hand pulls your hair to rest over one shoulder. Another smack to your ass has them snapping open. You meet his eyes in the mirror. A warning.

Only you were without clothes. It makes you feel a little vulnerable. But then Jake pushes himself even closer. He’s no longer in his khakis. He’s in sweats and a t-shirt. You can feel him breathing, his chest warming your back. It’s when he pushes his hips against you—you can feel him. All of him. It makes your head fall back against his chest.

A hand trails down your side while the other moves to your chest. You slip out a whine when a nipple is taken between his expert fingers. His hands on you is the best feeling in the world. The heat coming from him is intoxicating. A hum rumbles from him when his fingers finally find your core, slipping between your folds. You’re completely soaked. You’ve been this way since you saw him in the common room. You were really that weak. Your breath locks in your throat when he slips a digit in.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his accent tainting his words. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

You whine again, you can’t help it. You push your hips back into him, arching your back. It’s truly amazing how desperate and needy he can make you. One of these days you’ll have to time it. He pulls his finger out only to push it back in with another. He does this, warming up your body, until you’re moaning, your own hand wrapping around his wrist. You can feel his grin against the back of your neck. You can’t stop your hips from grounding down on his hand. Desire has taken over. Jake has left your nipple, hand now wrapped around your throat, holding you hostage to watch yourself in the mirror. He grunts when you clench around his fingers. You’re close, too close.

“Daddy,” you breathe, fingers digging into his arm.

“There she is. There’s my sweet girl. Not the fucking brat I’ve been dealing with today. Do you want to come, baby? Hmm? Should I let you? Let you gush all over my fucking hand, and then maybe I’ll think about lettin’ my cock sink into you? Does that sound good?”

If you have him whisper dirty things in your ear all hours of the day, you’d die happy. It’s only moments later when the band is about to snap that he pulls his hand completely away from you. Your core throbs with the sudden emptiness. Meeting Jake’s stare in the mirror you see just how blown out his eyes are. His grip tightens around your throat before he lets go. Really, you should have seen it coming. It annoys you because you only want more.

You can feel him moving behind you. The soft sounds of his clothes hitting the floor. Your whole body shivers in anticipation. Heat pulses between your legs. You love the idea of him breaking you open. It’s fucked up, and dangerous, but it warms your belly all the same. His lips pink and full, he bends down and kisses right between your shoulder blades. Traveling up your spine, over your shoulder, he digs his teeth in where it meets your neck. You don’t miss his smirk when you moan.

“Are you ready to start being nice, sweetheart?”

“I’ve been nice.”

His hand cracks hard across your ass. “Wrong answer.”

“Fuck, Jake, you be nice.”

Roughly, he spins you around and pins you against the dresser. His chest is heaving, breathing ragged enough to match your own. He’s got a slight crazed look in his eye. One you only see when it’s just the two of you. Slowly a smile creeps on your lips. Your nose wrinkles as you stare up at him.

“This is me being nice.” You tilt your head, shaking it at him. Jake was a lot of things, but nice wasn’t one of them.  “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” He raises a brow.

“Yes daddy.”

Jake kisses your forehead before pushing you towards the bed. You go without argument. Following back into your soft sheets, elbows holding you up.

“C’mon pretty baby. Open your legs.”

You do, slowly, testing his patience. Jake doesn’t say anything, only watches. His eyes never move from your pussy. Open, vulnerable, exposed. He takes a few steps forward, his hard length bobbing with each step. You eye it for a moment, a small one. Not sure what hell you’d pay if he caught you staring. You gasp, body slightly jumping when there’s a sudden slap against your center. Glancing up at Jake to see him with a malicious grin. Fuck. You mewl and writhe at the sting of the slap. He just chuckles darkly, relishing in the sounds you make as you squirm beneath him. Jake moves up the bed, his lips finding their way to your skin. Biting, licking, sucking a trail up your tender thighs, teasing you.

“Such a pretty pussy, sweetheart.”

A squeal escapes you when he drags his teeth over your clit. You haven’t even orgasmed yet but he’s pushing you towards overstimulation. He’s purposely driving you crazy, but god, do you like when he’s mean. You wiggle your hips as his head dips lower, feeling the warmth of his breath ghosting over your core. You instinctively lift your hips up, exposing your dripping cunt to him. You hear him hum in satisfaction as you moan and buck in desperation for his touch.

“Such a needy little thing” he taunts, placing hot kisses to the back of your thighs, just below the curve of your ass. “You want the me to fuck you with my tongue hmm? Is that what you want?”

“God, yes.”

He laughs. “Heaven can’t help you now, sweetheart. It’s just you and me here.”

You groan as he licks from your throbbing core up to your clit, not lingering for you to get any kind of satisfaction. “Come on baby, you can do better than that.”

“Your mouth, your fucking fingers, I don’t care.”

He sits up suddenly, placing another sharp slap to your ass, making your skin sting. You were sure you’d have welts the shape of his hand tomorrow.

“Then beg for it” Jake commands, his hands running up and down your thighs, his fingers getting tantalizingly close to your cunt before he starts moving away again.  

“Please” you whine, hands tightening in the sheets. You want to touch him. Knowing him though, he’d pull back and away from your reach. Making this a lot more torturous than it was already.  “Please, touch me. Use your tongue, your hands, anything. Please, daddy, please just touch me”.

He sighs, moving back to hover over you. “So needy, sweetheart. What do you want? Do you even know?”

“I know that I want you.”

 That’s the truth. You say a lot of shit when he’s got you under him. You’d still say it if he bothered to ask you in broad daylight while up in the clouds. But he hasn’t, so you keep it to yourself. A well kept secret that makes your chest ache.

“Joker,” you look at him, fixating on how his normal green was just a thin ring around black. “Are you going to let me have it? Or am I going to have to fucking take it?”

You smile. “You can have whatever you want. All you gotta do is ask.”

Jake gives you a breathtaking smile, his hand lifting to your face, thumb running along your cheekbone. Your breath catches. It’s a tender touch, a gentle moment. “My good girl,” he says softly. He’s reminding you. This is not punishment, this is worship. “I think I'd like to pray.”

“Wha—”

Seeing Jake on his belly, face level with your cunt has you whimpering. You can see him smirking, his hot breath fanning over you with every exhale.

“I haven’t even touched you yet, baby.” The pet name has your head falling back against the pillows.

“So fucking needy, huh baby?” He questions, hands moving up over your thighs, thick fingers digging into them so tight you’ll have bruises to show for it. “Can’t help but be a bratty little whore, huh? I know why you do it sweetheart. Whatever gets my attention.”

He runs his nose over your center, taking in a deep breath. His hands tighten on your thighs, as if he’s stopping himself from diving right in. You shudder, squeezing your thighs together only for him to pry them apart. You swallow, breathing shallow, taking him in as his large hand lifts one of your legs to rest on his shoulder. You’re a pathetic pile of putty in his hands. You can’t help but wonder if he knew he could mold you into anything he wanted. He could straight out ruin you and you’d thank him. But that’s the point, isn’t it? Your whole relationship. You give and he takes. Jake is good, great even, at what he does. He’ll never take what he can’t give in return.

His hand trails up your leg, rough calluses catching on your skin. There is no buildup, his finger running through your folds, a hum as he collects it before sticking the digit in his mouth.

“Look at all that. So fucking sweet, baby. Your cunt tastes so much better, though, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” It comes out in a sigh.

“Yes what?”

You clench around nothing. The forcefulness of his voice. You moan at his words. He gave nothing else before diving in. You moan, your head falling back against the pillows again. Only to lift it when he smacks your thigh.

“Joker,” he warns.

You simply nod, biting back your whimper. His tongue is flat as it makes its way through your folds. He’s done this hundreds of times, pushed you over the edge so many times. Every time feels like the first time. A whimper escapes you.

“Daddy,” you murmur, hips lifting to roll against his face.

“Sweetheart.” He replies voice thick with amusement. You squirm at the feel of his breath against you. His thumb rolls your clit in circles as his tongue parts your folds. He slips a digit in before replacing it with his tongue.

You grind yourself on his face, his nose catching against your clit. You whisper his name, it falls from your lips like a hymn. He holds you open and licks up the seam of your sex, you jerk, knee barely grazing his cheek.

“Easy, Jo.”

He strokes and teases your pussy. Switching off between his thick fingers and his tongue. He has you quivering, moans spilling out of you. The sounds of you clenching around his fingers, his tongue are obscene and he fucking loves it.  You feel like you’re in the sky. Head in the clouds and you aren’t sure you’re ever coming back down. You move with every flick of his tongue. Heel digging into his shoulder when he sucks your clit into his warm mouth. It almost sends you over.

“It’s been months, baby. Months since I’ve tasted you. Months since I’ve had you spread out like this. I’ll tell you a secret: I thought about it every night. Didn’t fall asleep once without thinking of you.”

You’re on the edge. Just a push. A simple push and—his words hit you and it’s like being doused with water. He has no idea about you. It’s a crack in your armor, a splinter in your chest. Fuck, when did your feelings for him get so deep? How did things get so messed up? A sob escapes you, tears falling down your cheeks in burning trails. Jake slows down, noticing you’re in your head, but not really there with him. Not how you should be. He goes to ask you what’s wrong when he realizes you’re crying. Instantly he’s on high alert. Jake will fuck you through a lot of things, but he will not do this while you’re crying. You’ve never cried during sex.

Rough fingers catch your tears as they fall. You shake your head, not wanting him to touch you. He wants to understand, you know he does. How can you tell him like this, in the middle of all this? You’re a fucking mess and it only proves what you already knew. You cannot function without him. He calls your name, soft but stern. Green eyes take you in, nothing but concern coloring his face.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You sigh, looking away from him. “I lied.”

“About what.”

“About being jealous.”

Jake’s lips twitch. “I know.”

“I shouldn’t be,” you whisper, “that’s our deal, right?”

“Our deal…” He sighs, coming face to face with you. “Sweetheart. All I did was take her out to dinner. I think she expected more, but I couldn’t because all I could think about was you.”

Biting your lip you look at him again. “But why, Jake? Why would–”

“Fitz. I heard Fitz took you out.”

Oh for the love of god. The fucking Navy were a bunch of high school girls. Gossiping like no one’s business. Finally, you lifted a hand and ran it through his blonde locks, something you’d been dying to do all night. “Oh, Jake. We are both so stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“Fitz took me out for my birthday. A whole group of people were there, including Rooster and Phoenix.”

If you could take a picture of his face, you would have. Slowly a smile spreads over his face, and it’s becoming one of your favorite things. You love the way he looks at you. You’re pretty sure you love him, but you’re not going to be admitting that tonight.

Jake bumps his nose with yours. “You’re my girl, sweetheart. Only you. It’s been that way for a long time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you want to continue?”

You lean forward and bite right where his shoulder meets his neck, making him hiss in pain. “Yes daddy.”

“Fucking brat.”

You can’t help but laugh. You’re lighter than you have been in a long time. You feel free. You feel like an idiot because it came to a head while you were getting eaten out, but beggars can’t be choosers. Your laughter gets cut off with Jake’s tongue. He’s returned back to your cunt and is going at full force. Saliva is pooling on the sheets below you along with your arousal. Three fingers pump into you, curling into that spongy part over and over. There is no stopping. Jake’s brought you right to the edge and he’s sending you over without a care in the world.

“Oh my god,”

Jake groans against you, feeling your release. You clench tightly on his fingers as he fucks them into you, wanting to take everything you’ve got to give. He keeps up his pace, helping you ride it out. As your hips slow down he replaces his fingers with his tongue, his mouth lapping at all that you’ve spent while his thumb flicks at your clit.  

“No, no. It’s too much.”

“Come on, be a good girl. I know you’ve got another one for me.”

It should embarrass you that he’s picked up on it. A chronic people pleaser, you bask in praise. His praise is far and between. Between the nit picking and the brat calling. Jake hardly gives praise to anyone and it shoots straight to your core. You’re desperate, small whimpers falling from your lips, your cunt pulsing and aching. It’s all burning heat before it melts into pleasure.

You're dripping down your thighs. You know it’s all over his face. He catches your eye when he pulls away, a grin tilting his full lips. A gift just for you. He’s shining with your release. Leaning forward he catches you by surprise and kisses you. Thrusting his tongue into your mouth, you moan at the taste of you. As quickly as it started it was over.

He swiftly moves to his knees, a hand slides across your ass, slapping you just hard enough to leave a red handprint behind as he thrust deep, bottoming out. It’s a silent scream, no sound leaving you. He’s big, too big, and he’s filling you up to the brim. It hurts, a pain that you will never get enough of. Your knuckles turn white with each rough, hard thrust. Jake slides a hand up your stomach, between your breasts so his hand can wrap itself around your throat. He loves to watch you come undone around him, and he’ll never let you forget it either. Your cheeks are flushed, pupils blown with lust, and lips parted as each of your clipped breaths turn into whimpers.

“Fuck,” he grits, hand tightening, cutting off a little more air, “feel good.”

You stare back at him, feel as he moves to kneel on one knee, the angle shifting somewhere deeper inside of you. His teeth dig into your skin again, this time leaving bruises behind. It makes you whine. Little secrets that litter your skin. He thrusts harder, rougher until your hand is wrapped around his wrist trying to hold you steady. He’s fully claiming you. Cock punching into the deepest part of you. Your head is empty, full of nothing but Jake. Words are pouring out of you, but you couldn’t understand what you were trying to say even if you wanted to. Whatever it is he wants to hear. Whatever keeps him close, keeps him inside of you. It’s been so long, too long and you honestly believe you’ll die if he were to leave.

“Daddy, I–” you're cut off by a whimper when he reaches that hard to reach spot deep inside you. Over and over again, you feel it coming, your orgasm is going to come crashing down and you’re ready to bask in it.

“You going to come on my cock, baby?”

“Yes! Yes daddy. Please, please, daddy. Don’t stop. More, more, Holy fuck,”

You come on his cock like clockwork, and when you fall back into your bed sheets, your body trembles, heaving desperately for air. Jake groans, pulling you up until you’re flush against him. His lips meet yours in a messy kiss, bucking his hips harder until he’s chasing his high right over the ledge with you.

“Good girl,” he praises, letting go of your throat. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Your breath is a little ragged. You're sweaty, exhausted, and in need of another shower. You smile when Jake pulls out and lays down next to you, pushing your hair out of your face. There was never a sacrifice when it came to Jake. Hangman. It's as easy as breathing, you just need to know how to let go.

“You good, sweetheart?”

“I’m good.” You look over at him, trace a finger over his bottom lip. “I did miss you, you know.”

He smiles, kissing the pad of your thumb. “Yeah, I know.”

#jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman seresin x you #hangman seresin smut #jake hangman seresin one shot #top gun maverick fanfic

[mayajadewrites]

suguru geto x fem reader: lucky

roommates to lovers–friends to lovers–slow burn

story synopsis: Suguru Geto is your best friend and roommate. After a year of living together, there have been more than one opportunity to throw away your friendship. The question is, would you get lucky as fall in love for the rest of your days?

ao3

CHAPTER SIX

🎧🌙🧺📖🕯️🧸🤍

It's not often that you're left speechless. Suguru Geto has succeeded, however. You stared into his eyes, watching as they search your face for some sort of confirmation.

You could not find the words to say to Suguru. You wanted Suguru badly. You felt conflicted though, since you didn't want to lose your best friend.

You also do like Choso and have been willing to explore your relationship with him. It wouldn't be fair to him to just forget about him and be with Suguru.

"Tell me." Suguru persisted.

"I can't." You finally say, pushing your head on Suguru's headboard.

"So whats wrong?" Suguru takes his index finger, caressing the outline of your face.

"Sugu, you're my best friend." You sigh. "If we didn't work out, I'm not sure if I could be without you."

"If you're always worried about the future, you can't enjoy the present."

"There's also Choso."

"Fuck Choso." Suguru sucked his teeth.

"Hey, be nice. You don't know him and I like him." You ran your fingers through Suguru's jet black locks. "I just don't want to rush into anything. I'm not even sure you actually feel this way or if it's your sick brain."

"So that's not a no." Suguru coughed.

"Why don't we revisit this when your body temperature is not the same as hell?" You moved his hair away from his forehead.

"Will you stay here with me?" Suguru looked up at you with his coffee ground eyes.

"Say please and I will."

"Please."

"Yes, I will." You curl yourself next to Suguru's body, your bodies intertwining with each other.

"Next time I'll be the one making you beg."

The morning is here before you know it. When you open your eyes, Suguru's bare chest was in front of you, his head resting on top of yours. His snores are louder than usual since he's sick, but you don't mind.

You move your body a bit to make your way out of his bed to get ready for work. Of course, he caught on to what you're doing.

"You have sick time, right?" Suguru yawned.

"Why are you asking me such a question?" You turn on your heel.

"Call outttt." Suguru drew out the 'out'. When they say men are needy when they're sick, they are not lying.

"Fine. But I have a date tonight, so you'll be without me for a few hours."

"Make it fast." Suguru pulls the covers over his face, presumably falling asleep. You dial your bosses number and let them know you're feeling sick and don't want to give anyone else the same thing.

After you hang up, you walk to the bathroom you and Suguru share. Thankfully, there are two sinks. You start brushing your teeth while simultaneously cleaning the counter.

"Mmmmm." You hear Suguru groan from his room.

You make your way to his room, leaning on his doorframe. "Yes, my sick princess?"

"Feel my head." He flips over on his back. You press the back of your hand to his forehead.

"Definitely less warm than yesterday, so your fever is going down."

"Must've been the soup."

You turn on the TV and play whatever trashy reality tv show that is on at the moment. Suguru coughs, which leads to a groan because he's over being sick.

"Let me get you some of the soup from yesterday." You get up from the bed. Suguru's eyes followed you, stuck on your figure. He watched as your ass moved in your shorts, making him wish he wasn't sick so he could grab you and kiss you as hard as he wanted to.

Bzzzzz.

Choso: Hey, are we still on for tonight? Shoko said you didn't show up to work.

You: Yes, we're still on. I'll meet you there at 8 :)

Choso: :)

You look to your left and see Suguru sleeping soundly, his stuffy nose amplifying his snores. He looks like an angel, honestly. You take your hand and caress his face gently without a second thought. His eyes fluttered open, revealing your favorite eyes.

"Come back soon." Suguru almost whispered, bringing your hand to his mouth. He kissed each of your fingers gently before falling back asleep.

You felt conflicted. You have Suguru, your best friend, who wants to try something with you. Then you have Choso, the sweetest man, who is very happy to get to know you.

Either way you're hurting someone.

You change into your favorite pair of curve hugging jeans and a sweater, pairing them with your white platform converse. Choso was taking you to a Poetry night at a local lounge, so very lowkey.

When you locked the door to your apartment, you felt guilty for leaving Suguru. You weren't sure if it was because he's sick and you want to take care of him, or because you feel like you owe him your loyalty.

Well, you don't. Not yet at least.

When you arrive at the lounge, Choso is wearing a black sweater with black jeans, his hair in his signature buns. He greets you with a kiss on the cheek, gently grabbing your hand.

He leads you into the lounge where someone was already performing a poem. You find a seat on a loveseat couch, Choso following close behind.

Choso's body was close to yours as you watched the poets, sneaking looks and kisses. You couldn't help but think of Suguru. You had butterflies, yes, but nowhere near as many as you did for your best friend.

You turn to look at Choso, who looks completely enamored with you. You fake a smile as best as you can and press your lips to his. Is it wrong to be kissing a man you don't want to be with?

Maybe.

But that's a conversation for another time and another place.

"I had fun tonight." You say as you leave the lounge. "I'm feeling kind of sick, so I'm gonna head home." Your eyes meet Choso's.

"Me too." He smiles, not wanting to press any further. "I mean me too, I had fun. Not that I feel sick." He chuckled.

"I'll text you when I get home. Actually this time." You hug Choso, feeling his muscles through his sweater. He kissed your forehead as you separated, leaving you feeling worse about your feelings.

When you get home, it's 10:15. Suguru was most definitely awake.

Upon entering your apartment, you see Suguru standing in the kitchen, pouring himself a water. He's shirtless and his hair is all the way down, cascading down his back muscles.

"Someone is feeling better." You set your purse down.

"I am actually." Suguru turns to you and smiles. He looks so much more lively. You've missed him. "So how was your date?"

You look down, sighing. "He's not you, Suguru. That's the problem."

"I'm the problem?" Suguru laughed, setting his cup down on the counter. "Last I checked, I'm not the one that's dating someone else."

"Don't act like we've been in a relationship Sugu. We've both been denying these feelings for some time, and now they're out in the open."

"No one compares to you, princess." Suguru steps closer to you. "I've tried over and over again to replicate the feeling you give me."

You close your eyes and wince at his words, not because they hurt, because you're feeling the exact same.

"If we don't work out, we don't work out." Suguru suggests. "Life is too short to be wondering about the future when you could be enjoying whats right in front of you." Suguru takes another step closer to you, grabbing your hands gently. You looked up into his eyes, getting lost in them.

"I don't want to hurt anyone." You look down, thinking of Choso.

"Hey, he will understand." Suguru brought your eyes back to his, grabbing your chin with his thumb and index finger.

"We have to take it slow, ok?"

"How slow are we talking?"

"We can't have sex yet."

Suguru chuckled and looked back at you. "That's not the only thing on my mind. It will be mind blowing when it happens, but just having you already feels like an orgasm."

You smile as Suguru's arms wrap around your waist, lifting you up from the floor. Your legs intertwine around his waist, running a hand through his hair.

"We've never kissed." You smile, refusing to make the first move.

"That we haven't." Suguru's voice was quiet, almost seductive. His eyes began to close and you followed, feeling his plush lips finally mend with yours. The electricity you felt almost made your heart fall out of your throat. Suguru's large hands held onto your ass, opening his mouth more so your tongue can enter.

You slip your tongue in his mouth, to which he sucks on it gently in return. You moan quiety, pushing yourself off of him from his chest. "We can't go slow if you do that." You press your forehead to his.

"Baby, I can make you cum with just my lips."

#suguru geto #geto suguru #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #geto #suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen geto #roommates to lovers #friends to lovers

[perictione00]

Oops!...I Did It Again

Ch 2: Lucky Charm

Pairing: Nanami Kento x reader

Warnings: Use of profanities and curse words, power dynamics, toxic work culture

Synopsis: When life was throwing you uncountable curveballs, an unexpected reunion with your high school friend helped you dodge every single one of them. Coping mechanisms leave you both in a complicated situationship. So what happens when one of you ends up catching feelings? The cliche or the unexpected?

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

Ch 1

Naoya Zenin was a menace. A woman-hating man-child who was also an out-and-proud nepotism baby. He was a nightmare to work with, and it didn't help that you were his secretary. The pay was good, very good, but you didn't know how long you could tolerate his trashy behavior. For now, you have to go with the flow and put up with his issues to avoid pulling three part-timers a day. Which was why you were redoing the whole file work because he didn't like the original font. You were sure the font did not matter to him; he was just enjoying his time moonwalking on your last nerve and misusing his position to make you feel inferior or something along those lines.

"Get me a grilled steak and green salad from that French place", Naoya ordered as the clock hit 12.

It was lunch time, commonly known as his infamous "booty hour", where he would invite a woman from the department to discuss a crucial company matter until his lunch arrived. What was worse was the fact that he would expect you to instruct the delivery person to take the food inside his office while he went at it. Some weird kink of his that got him off. But being the compassionate human you are, a friendly warning was provided instead. However, the same couldn't be said about you. Today was not your lucky day, as your order was declined due to traffic problems, and you had to inform that ass of a man about it.

"Um, sir, would you like to order something else? They're not taking online orders today", you asked, already expecting a dramatic reaction from him.

"Just go get it then, and better make it quick; I don't like my food cold."

The sheer audacity this man had was unbelievable. So fucking ill-mannered and rude that you could easily see yourself killing him. Before you could give him a piece of your mind, in a very toned-down way, of course, a woman entered the office, which was your cue to leave. She was very pretty, and it was a pity that she was there to entertain your boss. It's not like she was forced to, but you're sure that she wants a promotion, and this was the only way. With the experience of two weeks here, you were enlightened with the information about the consultation department being the worst of all when it came to the work environment and treatment of staff. And there was literally nothing anyone could do about it, not even the HR department, because the person on top of the food chain was affiliated with the Zenin family. So you did your job and kept quiet like everyone else.

You felt disgusted as you walked out of the office. The huge pay makes sense now. No one would voluntarily want to work with a jerk like Naoya. For someone from such an influential family, he was too ignorant to survive in the real world. And although he was actually good at what he did, his problematic behavior left no space for praise. But at the end of the day, it was true that he was your boss, and it was also true that you were literally running an errand for him right now. Complaining is all you can do, which was tiring. It is what it is. So with a smile on your face, you entered the restaurant and ordered a grilled steak seasoned with extra pepper and a green salad to go. Yes, it was childish and petty; however, you don't remember him saying "please" while requesting either, so a little spice makes it even now.

You looked around for an empty seat to sit on while you waited, and just then you saw a familiar face offering you one beside him. Oh, he was totally an angel in disguise. You remember that in high school, he helped you several times. Like that one time when you were late for PE class and he lied on your behalf to save you from punishment, or that one time when he helped you revise the whole syllabus minutes before the test, or the one where he stayed awake the whole night to keep you company at a sleepover because you were hellbent on completing the horror movie marathon, or the one where he held your hand while the doctor informed you about your parents' deaths. Nanami Kento was a kind person. A Lucky Charm. And the same kind person found out that you left the city a day before his 19th birthday without telling him.

"Are you stalking me?", you said with a playful smile as you sat down.

"Are you planning on leaving without a word again?", he countered, reciprocating your smirk.

"Oh, so we're going that way, huh", you replied, chuckling. It was not awkward, but you didn't feel like explaining that situation.

"Are we? Anyway, what are you doing in this part of town? Fancy something French?", he asked, changing the subject.

"Oh no. I'm here to get food for a walking STD", you stated almost immediately.

"Interesting. Please elaborate", Nanami said, unsure if he was just entertaining your rant or genuinely invested.

"It's my boss. He's such a douchebag. I can't stand him, but I have to since I'm his assistant. It's exhausting having to sit through his bullshit. He just never shuts up, you know. Legit crap comes out of his mouth. And honestly, he knows his shit, I'll give him that, but the guy's hopeless when it comes to basic human decency. God, he's trash", you stopped knowing well that you could go on forever.

"That sounds like a lot. Why not switch? The company, I mean", Nanami questioned.

You were hesitant, almost uncomfortable, with him knowing about your employment crisis. For some reason, you didn't want him to look at you any differently than he did before. You didn't want him to view you as a failure. Maybe it was the inferiority complex or whatever, but you just wanted to avoid the topic. Fortunately for you, your order was ready, and so were you, to leave. With that, you said your goodbyes, promising to catch up again.

"Sir, you have a meeting with the head of the marketing department at 3", you said while organizing his schedule.

"Yeah, that. Let's go; you're coming with me. I need someone to carry the paperwork", he said nonchalantly.

It was while working with him, that you noticed that Naoya Zenin had a knack for enraging people. But trying your best to pay him no mind, you followed him with your hands full to the meeting auditorium. Once you reached the well-furnished venue, he instructed you to arrange the files and leave. Damn, this job was hitting on all the tough spots of your already bruised ego. You opened the door to leave, only to bump into a large man. A large man in a white tuxedo with blonde hair, to be specific. Who knew that on your way out, you would bump into Nanami Kento of all people?

Ch 3

Series Masterlist

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut #jjk dilf #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #nanami x reader #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento smut #naoya zenin #nanami x reader smut #jjk angst #jjk nanami #jjk fluff #jjk fwb #jjk friends with benefits #nanami fanfic #nanami smut #nanami x fem!reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

[rzyraffek]

Hello, I hope you’re doing better! X

Could you please do Asa Emory with a s/o (wife or not) who enjoys baking and loves to bake things specifically for him? Like if he said he liked something once, a week or so later she’d bake it for him

If not that’s fine ofc! :)

Hope you’re well x

Thanks!!!!Im doing great and i hope everyone reading this has(and will have) amazing day!!! Asa is so fun to write about btw! Request are open yall can ask anonymously if shy!

Asa with s/o that bakes and cooks!

first of all, Asa knows how to cook but simply doesnt have much time to sit down, find recepies, make it and then eat, hes busy man alright

But in his free time he enjoys cooking/baking with s/o! its always fun! Not only its Quality time but tasty food too

His favorite is either cheesecake or vanilla/strawberry cake!

When Asa told his wife he loves it, oh boy he didnt expect her to bake it like every weekend, girl chill he already loves you so much, his heart will explode if you wont stop!

I like to imagine that most of slashers dont really eat normal food, just microwaved food cuz they dont have time or knowlage to do anything else, and Asa isnt an exeption. He litteraly doesnt remember when was last time he ate homemade meal

if s/o makes huge amounts of food, he will pack some and take it to his "job" (imagine Arkin being tortured and Asa just eats some pink strawberry cake in front of him)

He wont eat anything else but her food, like why would he eat some trashy food when he has gog food at home :3

Cooking/Baking together its his favorite activities! Sometimes when hes in goofy mood he will try to "change" recepies. Like s/o will look away for one second and his guy will try to add some vanilla extract or salt to food. NO Asa you cant add vanilla extract to everything >:/

Arkin is the main character from the Collector movies! thanks for all reblogs and comments yall are rad ( i read all of them but sometimes i forgor to respond)

#asa emory #asa emory x reader #asa x reader #the collector #the collector x reader #collector x reader #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons