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jedisupernova · 16 days ago

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life with choi subong (thanos)

notes minors dni contains life before games, fem and aged up reader (same age as subong), always written with plus size reader in mind but truly anyone can read, a lot of made up lore to fill in gaps & build dynamic between subong and reader, smut (no distinct section. it is imbedded throughout; sexting, dirty talk, oral f and m receiving, vignettes of sub!subong, handjob, p in v, non-protective sex (don't be stupid,) public sex, foreplay, squirting), angst (lying, deception, miscommunication, arguing and gaslighting: cursing, pushing each other, one body shaming remark, a lot of name calling, insults, mentions of death, just being mean; this does not having a happy ending), toxic dynamic, mentions of drinking, drug use, problematic reader if you squint, i don't know how crypto works so don't yell at me, blatantly problematic subong, reader deserves better, a lot of dumbassery and some typos.

requested? no, this is an original idea! this is also my very first post, and i want to show what i can do! this is really long. like, really long. this is my interpretation of the character, i hope you like it and please be nice!

he was the nail that chipped the day after you painted them; the incessant promotional email that never filtered to the spam folder; the fly you repeatedly missed when swatting; the shoelaces that always came undone; the built up phlegm after a particularly nasty cough; the shirt that shrunk when you left it in the dryer too long. but what could you say? the dick was too fucking bomb ...

you met on the night of your friend's birthday. some time past eleven thirty pm on a saturday night at some dimly-lit nightclub in itaewon, you nursed a margarita, chatting with your friends and paying no mind to the re-arranging happening on the small stage some feet away from your table—a couple of speakers and a mic stand—nor did you look when the club manager made a half-assed announcement, followed by his exit and an old school hip hop instrumental filling the acoustics of the club.

subong was performing that night after begging the manager for weeks on end. it was a particularly difficult feat, considering the rap battle night he and seven other underground artists were part of two months prior ended in a fist fight after a set of insensitive bars about subong's opponent's family lineage spewed from his mouth without remorse. oh, can't forget the time he stole three bottles of cuervo tequila, or when he got so high he squirted someone in the eye with lime because they looked at him funny, or when he left such a monstrous shit in the toilet that he ended up flooding the bathroom when trying to flush.

alas, alas ... the melon streaming numbers spoke for itself (over 95k streams in total for his most recent mixtape), he just reached 10k followers on instagram, and all attention is good attention if you know how to work it ... and subong did, considering bookings went up when he announced he'd be performing this weekend prior to getting approval, cornering the club manager into a checkmate.

you noticed the slight commotion reverberating through the crowd when the music blared, but not enough to divert your attention wholly. when his set finished, he snuck into the crowd, snagging a rogue bloody mary from the bar and downing it without hesitation, turning his head sharply when someone from your party shouted his name.

your friend's boyfriend went to high school with him and hadn't seen him in years. with the way subong reacted, you would've thought they saw each other last week and were the best of friends, slinging his arm around his shoulders and capturing the attention of your table in a flurry. he was overtly charismatic, slowly coming around to your side of the table, eyeing you up and down without an iota of shame. he liked what he saw—his tongue running over his bottom lip.

he looked a bit try hard-y, in his loose fitting clothing, singular golden chain, and his black hair in an awkward stage of a grown out buzz cut—but admittedly he was fine. then you saw the layer of sweat shining on his tan skin ... oh ... he's fine.

"you like what you saw?" he shouted over the music, placing his hand on the table, inching towards you. he gestured to the now empty stage with a subtle flick of his head, leaning in to hear you. "that was you?" you said back. "i'm sorry, i wasn't watching!"

subong smirked, thinking you were joking, but his ego inflated nonetheless. "i—i rap!" he shouted, laying his palm against his chest. "i don't!" you quipped back with a grand smile, shaking your head. he had no idea his dick could get hard that quickly. "i work at a firm!" you say.

it could have been the sight of your glossed lips .. or his big brown eyes .. or your curvy hips .. full thighs .. his tattooed hands .. or the way his lips brushed against your earlobe for you to hear him .. or how your fingers brushed his hair back so he could hear you .. but next thing you know, his lips caught yours, and the next thing after that, his knees were on the porcelain tiles of the bathroom stall, head caught between your plush thighs, eating your pussy like a man starved.

subong's arms held your waist in place, not stopping your back from arching or your hands grasping onto either the wall or his hair, your breathy moans making his jeans feel as if he was wearing tight spandex. when you came—and you came hard—he pulled his phone out of his pocket and shoved it into your hand, "number. now."

"fucking christ, i just came." you said, breathing labored. "hold on." when he stood up, you reached down, pulling your underwear up. you eyed the time on his phone whilst adding your number to his contacts, sending yourself a text. you caught sight of his bulge when you gave his phone back. "you'll have to take care of that yourself. i have to go." you say, running your hands through your hair in an effort to not look too disheveled, even if your friends were smart enough to put two and two together.

you noticed subong take a prolonged look at you. he read your mind: "taking a mental photo for later." he explained, inhaling sharply through his nose. a smirk tugged at your lips. "oh yeah? i'll make it 4d." you palmed his bulge. he nearly lost balance, his gasp sounding more vulnerable than he would've liked—"f-fuck—ngh!" he bit his bottom lip, planting his forehead against yours. your touch was slow and calculated but firm, applying enough pressure to make his vision go fuzzy. "you're f-fucking crazy," his voice shook pathetically, eyebrows contorted in deep pleasure. "y-you f-fucking—ngh!—crazy bitch!"

you stopped abruptly, grabbing subong through his pants harshly. he mewled pathetically in pain. "call me that shit one more time and see what happens." "i'm s-sorry! f-fuck, i'm sorry! i'm sorry! please!" his breath hitched. "oh my fuck—please, baby, i'm so sorry!"

you gradually began palming him again, feeling his deep breath brush against your skin as his forehead returned to yours. his lips eventually latched onto yours, and you couldn't help your thighs rubbing together from how long and slender he felt in your hand.

your phone started to ring in your purse, which hung off the hook at the top of the bathroom stall door, undoubtedly a friend looking for you. you broke the kiss and ceased your touch, stepping around him and fishing your phone out before slinging your purse over your shoulder. "you better fucking call me." you say, kissing his lips again. "i will, will."

you eye his tent. it looks like it hurts and the zipper could break off. you didn't even realise you were biting your bottom lip until your phone rang again. "best dick i'll ever have." subong heard you mutter as you walked away, his cocky smirk stretching across his face in no time. he bit his lip when he saw the wet spot on his jeans. unbeknownst to either of you, this night would become the defining vignette of your relationship.

he called you the very next day. when you didn't answer—because your phone was charging on your nightstand whilst you showered—he sent a dick pic with the bottom half of his face visible in the upper left corner with the accompanying text: Like what u see? he chuckled reading your response: should have kept it a surprise

from that point on he spent his spare money (he didn't have much to begin with) on e-cigarette refills, pills, eyebrow threading appointments (he swore you to secrecy), and, perhaps his most beloved purchase, condoms. he always kissed the wrapper before putting one on.

subong tries to give the impression of someone who fucks but the reality is .... well .... he wonders how he got so lucky whenever he's stood at your apartment door, waiting for you to open it after he's knocked. it's been a lot longer than he'd ever admit under sworn oath, but his erratic thrusts gave it away so quickly it was concerning.

don't get it twisted, it felt ... fine. maybe okay on a good day. he filled you up at the very least! but if only it could last longer ... and didn't feel so ... jabby ... and if only you didn't have to keep in your laughter when his forehead fell to your shoulder ... after he came so hard his vein bulged out of his temple and his breathing was deep enough to power a fucking windmill .. only for you to glance at the time on your phone when a notif popped up and think to yourself ... has it really only been four minutes?

so when he's thrusting into you from behind one night, panting like someone's choking him and drilling into you feverishly, you take his temporary halt to catch his breath as your moment. "subong..." your voice ruminates with lust, aided by the intoxicating feeling of his cock resting inside you. you look over your shoulder at his glistening body, illuminated even in your dimly lit bedroom. "you feel so good, baby." you half-lie, internally cringing. either way, he can't tell, he's too fucked out.

"but how about we ... go a little slower? so we can last longer? hm?" you say. his breath hitches when you roll your hips slowly, his palms laying against either globes of your ass lifelessly. you were struggling to keep it together, eyebrows contorted and mouth agape, stretching yourself out on him.

"like this, yeah?—mmf!" you bite your lip. this is the feeling you've been wanting ... you've been aching for. "it'll feel so much better, subong ..." "yeah, yeah ..." he was breathy. his palms slid to either side of your hips, pulling himself in slow and deep. you gasp, "yes! like that! start slow, then go faster ..."

the moans and whimpers that escaped your lips ran every single porno he's ever seen into the ground. he pounded into you when you told him to, feeling the gumminess of your tight walls hug his cock so divinely that he felt for a split second that maybe, just maybe, the cross he always wore served a different purpose than carrying his stash of pills. subong, unsurprisingly, did not last long, but for the first time, you didn't either. "b-baby! f-fuck—i'm gonna, i'm gonna!—" you clenched around him, and he saw white. subong thought he had transcended ... what better way to go out ... death by the best pussy ... he came so hard and so much that he felt himself drip down his thigh.

you first started calling him over on sundays. then he started to come on fridays ... then staying the weekend ... then he came by on wednesdays for a mid-week fuck .. and slowly, but surely, he essentially lived rent free in your apartment. it was a major plus for him. he'd just been floating from one friend's couch to another. your studio apartment was small as is, barely enough for someone a few years into the workforce and even less on affordability—you barely scraped by on groceries. you'd have to make a wish on a shooting star if you ever needed repairs or healthcare. subong, on the other hand? he finally got to sleep in a bed again, and he gets to not only bum it out on another couch, but also eat pussy, get his dick sucked, and fuck on it. 10/10 no notes from him

and christ did you fuck ... one ankle on the coffee table whilst the other rests atop the couch, him pounding into you deep and deliberately, his eyes boring into your face as yours rolled back, mouth agape. once he found his rhythm and knew your body more, it was over. by the grace of the universe, his stamina heightened, too. he thought about reading war and peace and the meticulous process of the seasonal fermentation of various vegetables to thwart his orgasm from coming too quickly, but fell into a mumble of incoherent whimpers and profanities when he heard your beautiful voice tell him to "h-harder, s-subong, harder," or the cacophony of stuttered grunts leaving both of your chests; sexual pleasure in its rawest form.

one friday evening he was sat at the top of your now shared bed with his back against the wall, legs spread and looking up at you with his mouth hung open and eyebrows furrowed in inexplicable pleasure, watching you bounce up and down in fucked out bliss. you had a bullshit ass day at work—something about being denied a raise or being unfairly told off at a meeting—he didn't remember or really care, all he knew was he suggested you use him to relieve frustration, and you obliged. "that's it b-baby. give it all to me, u-use this dick." he bit his bottom lip, squeezing the side of your thigh as you slammed down onto him. "give all your stress to—ngh!—me. your subongie will help you relax." his hands trailed up your waist and kneaded your breasts, making you gasp. you rolled your hips to catch your breath, biting your lip.

you put your hands on his chest for support. "such good dick." you said breathily. "all mine." "that's right." he affirmed. one hand stationed beside your knee, the other reached to the nightside table for his e-cig, bringing it to his lips. you opened your eyes when the cloud of smoke brushed against your cheeks, filling your nostrils with the faint scent of strawberry.

"fuck you and your fuckass puff bar." you said, trying to take it, but he raised it in the air with a shit-eating grin. "what? are you jealous? hm? is my baby jealous?" he jutted out his bottom lip mockingly, chuckling when you swat the e-cig out of his hand. "the fuck would i be jealous about you destroying your lungs for?" you retort. he rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "you think you're too good to be fucked by me that you needed to take the edge off." you say, throwing the e-cig onto the floor and ignoring his protests, only for them turn into sharp sucked-in breaths when you rolled your hips again. "th-that was my—shit!—my b-best fucking one," subong shuddered. "you want your best puff or pussy? hm?" you said sharply. with a whimper, he said "my best p-pussy." "i thought so. now say you're sorry until i believe you." you said, hearing him let out a wall-shattering moan when you began riding his long cock again. he would never admit to this in a million years, but this was his favorite way to fuck.

you were in denial for a long time that things had become more romantic and vulnerable. since it was unspoken between you two when he inconspicuously moved in (as irresponsible it is) ... to when he started calling you "my baby" two months in and him "your subongie" a couple weeks later ... to when steamy makeouts before bed remained just that, even through the hushed whimpers and dry humping ... to when he'd smoke a cigarette on the balcony after you routinely complained about the smell, him having you sit on his lap because "the cigarette doesn't hit the same," only to end up sucking the life out of his cock or him rutting into you from behind ... to when you'd wake up with his arm slung lazily across your waist and his head tucked into your neck ... he'd run verses by you and you'd unironically compliment them ... he unironically started going on grocery runs with you, and picking out your jewelry ... and to when sunday mornings became a lot more quieter than they used to be, you two sat on the small couch together, clad in nothing but your underwear, drinking stale black coffee as one of four channels you have play on your dinky tv. it might be due to the limited space, or something more, but his hand lay on your knee whilst yours mindlessly traced the tattoos on the back of his neck, or toyed with his cartilage piercing.

you couldn't kick the question out your mind anymore. "subong?" "hm?" he responded, eyes glued to the tv. "what are we?" he didn't budge. you nudged his shoulder, earning his attention but with a flutter of irritation. "huh? what'd you ask?" "i said what are we?" his eyebrows furrowed. "what do you mean?" you raised your eyebrows, losing patience. "you know exactly what i mean."

he takes a moment to rack his brain, and then gets it. "you're my girl. my señorita." his face fell when you scoffed and pushed him away. "talk to me when you want to be serious." "i am being serious!" he says defensively. "look, you're my girlfriend. we're together." he sets his coffee down, pulling you in for a kiss. he kept kissing you until you cracked a grin, which took all of two tries. he wields his big brown eyes like katanas looking into yours, raising a finger heart and pressing it against his lips. "i like you." he says, unable to hold back his smile when you moved his hand away.

subong leaned in closer, the tip of his nose feeling the warmth of your cheek. "do you like me, too? hm? you can tell me. i promise i'll keep it a secret. i won't tell anyone." he knew your answer, but teased nonetheless, shaking his head in affirmation. you shushed him gently, actively trying to thwart how flustered you've become. he only pushed more, pressing a purposely deep and obnoxious kiss onto your skin. "i'll be the best and sexiest boyfriend ever."

it felt so wrong that your heart beat a little faster. "i'm only saying okay so that you shut up." you muttered. a knowing grin stretched across subong's face. he placed a kiss on your neck and above the valley between your breasts, laying his temple on your chest, slinging his arms around you. he smirked when you wrapped your arm around his shoulder some minutes later, his eyes fluttering closed when your lips found the top of his head.

you made him start coughing up his earnings from gigs to go towards rent. considering he wasn't being paid much, bookings weren't predictable, and he'd sometimes try to hide his earnings from you (which resulted in him sleeping on the couch, and if he did it again, you threatened he'd be out on the balcony without a blanket) his contribution wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. you shut down any chance of retaliation from him with a look he's since named "period projection" or, depending on his mood, "viagra."

when a lot of time passed between gigs, subong was woken up by a notebook and pen thrown onto his chest. "if you don't have five songs written by the time i get back from work, you're pussyless for a week." you said, slinging your purse over your shoulder. he grunted, barely opening his eyes but sitting up, the notebook and pen falling onto the bed. you grabbed his face, pecking his cheek before heading out the door.

subong talked himself up if you were being particularly hard on him, or really, just not as delusional about his success. "baby, one day you won't have to worry about shit. i'll have us partying in mykonos by next valentine's and in switzerland to see the first snow." he said one morning, standing stupidly in the middle of the apartment with nothing but his briefs and a graphic tee that had stains you didn't want to know about. "book the flights when you stop eating week old beef and using my moisturizer." you mutter, shoving the vacuum cleaner in his hands, gesturing for him to hand over the shirt before heading to the basement of the building to do laundry.

if work permitted, you went to see him perform at whatever nightclub in the city. subong found you in the crowd after his set, giving you a sloppy kiss and wrapping his sweaty arms around you no matter if you came straight from work, still clad in business wear, or in something that made you look like the rapper girlfriend of his dreams. an air of added cockiness ruminated off him when you two tag-teamed hounding the club manager whenever they tried to lowball his pay. more often than not, they caved in and gave what was agreed to and then some after you shouted said your piece. either way, you end up on the dance floor wrestling with your tongues or him pounding into you from behind in a bathroom stall. everybody wins!

when you're at work and subong's at home, he films tiktoks and posts on his instagram to get his name out there. he also tries to start beef on various naver cafés, especially when he's bored. or texting you: Did u eat the last tico?; Hi baby I have a threading appt at 5 i will meet u at your work before we go to dinner; Highh as sht88df thikning about ❤️You girl❤️❤️❤️❤️; [insert photo of him flexing in the bathroom mirror] Come home for lunch

speaking of photos on his phone, he has quite the array—advertisements at the train and bus stations he finds funny; various hair colors from the department store he wants to try; mirror selfies of him either flexing or trying on shoes; a photo of his hand squishing your cheeks when you two were waiting in line for cheap street food for lunch; another photo of you looking rather disheveled in the kitchen when you two were unfairly woken up at 6 am one saturday morning by nearby construction, an adorably annoyed look on your face because he was standing in the way of the fridge; one selfie of him in bed hitting his e-cig; the next taken six minutes later with your tit in his mouth, his eyes looking at himself. if you didn't keep tabs on him, he would've made the latter the cover of his next mixtape.

some of your friends thought you were crazy for still being with him, someone who was barely scraping by and, from an outsider's pov, was a moocher. you'd shake your head, "you guys don't get it. i know what i'm doing. you don't need to worry." and you certainly did, considering whenever you came home to subong's big brown eyes, towering height, and his smooth, low voice asking "how was your day, baby?," or when his fingers traced a fresh hickey on your neck, or when he announced his presence by placing his hand teasingly low on your waist ... oh, you were just about ready to make him a father .... even if it would lower the nation's life expectancy rate.

you've caught yourself staring at him at night when you couldn't sleep, watching the way his lips parted every time he exhaled, or how his arms were sprawled out before him after he fell asleep with them crossed. you fought the fluttering of your heavy eyelids to just .... look at him. sometimes you succumb to slumber, pressing a gentle kiss onto his cheek before drifting off. but one night you were simply plagued by him, looking at subong as if he was a riddle to solve, until you realized with wide eyes that you were projecting: oh fuck no. i love him.

it terrified you, that strong feeling. but not enough to sit idly by if someone became a little too flirty with him at the club, or to slow your speed walk to the bathroom after a work conference to send him a picture after he sent one that morning—lowering your volume and pressing your phone to your ear, listening to the audio message he sent in response, subconsciously rubbing your thighs together: "god, you're so fucking hot baby. how did i get so lucky .... what am i supposed to do, hm? you made my dick so fucking hard .... and it's not even eleven am yet ... is this what you wanted, hm? to get me riled up first thing in the morning?" his voice was low, sleep still fresh in his tone, followed by wet strokes. "it's sad that you're at work for so long. leaving me here—f-fuck, yeah, just like th-that—all alone ... and so needy ..."

you fucked good and hard when subong got a spot in the rap battleground competition, landing him in a position to not only put his name out there, but possibly win some money that would make a difference. you were elated enough to go condom-less. "wanna make you feel good, baby," you murmured breathily, ass pushing against the kitchen countertop, subong standing between your warm thighs. "i'm just so—mmf!" you sucked in a breath when his lips and tongue found your neck. "s-so proud of you, subongie." oh. subong just knew something was up. but he wasn't stupid enough to question it, not when he knows he's about to enter the gates of heaven. "gonna let me fuck this tight pussy raw?" he muttered in that low voice of his, continuing his slow, wet kisses on your neck to avoid melting into a puddle of his libido. his voice quivered when you didn't answer, hidden well by your moan: "hm? gonna let me ruin this pussy—" "yes!" you whimpered.

in a moment of weakness, he bit his bottom lip. he grabbed your face with one hand, making you look him in the eye. even in his attempt at dominance, you saw the flickers of awe in his eyes. nothing filled the kitchen besides the sounds of your shaky breaths, his face studying yours. could this ... could he have just realized that ... he loves you, too? subong leans in closer, the tip of his nose brushing with yours. you try to lean in, but his hold on your face stops you. you don't know what to make of his feelings with his next words, but with how his other hand comes up and combs your hair out of your face, and his forehead touches yours, its perhaps the most intimate moment of your relationship thus far: "you're finally gonna let me fuck what's mine?" he whispers. you nod silently.

subong bottomed out that night, cumming all over your stomach and back. your back arched like never before when he was pounding into you from behind, taking him deep into your gummy, warm walls. your fingernails clawed at your pillowcases and bed sheets, jaw hung open and eyes rolled back whilst his heavy balls hit the bottom of your stomach. your cunt suffocated his dick every time his palm smacked either globe of your ass—"take that fucking dick. take that fucking dick, just like that, yeah," he panted, palm rubbing over your hot skin before smacking it again. his voice cracked, "f-fuck! o-oh my god! fuck!" he squeezed your hips so hard you sucked a breath in through your teeth. his thrusts momentarily slowed, blinking hard when his vision began to blur at the sight of the creamy ring at the end of his cock. the noise was obnoxious, wet, and loud. you're everything he could ever hope for. in missionary, he tried so hard not to be a babbling mess, through his purposeful strokes. his hands held your head in place, his thumbs pressing into your temples, but his gaze failed to leave his cock fucking you. "give me that fucking puffy pussy." he murmured. he held his bottom lip between his teeth, groaning. "give me that puffy fucking—o-oh! ngh! f-fuck, you always know how to make me feel so f-fucking good, baby!"

you showered afterward together, momentarily forgetting about the water bill when your arms wrapped around subong's neck, your lips molding together. the kiss was soft and sensual. his hands massaged the same globes his palms set fire to whilst the remnants of his lust washed off your body and down the drain. he slept the best he had in weeks that night. a couple weeks later, you helped him dye his hair a deep purple a few days before the competition, just in time for him to adopt his new stage persona after becoming insufferable since watching "endgame," thanos.

the competition came and went, and he placed as a runner-up. he actually listened when you said you didn't want to head to the club since you had work early the next day, settling for a nice dinner and a bottle or two of soju instead. a group of fans of the show came up to him in the checkout line, and not only did you watch with an admiring grin, but your eyes widened surprise when he introduced you as his girlfriend after you were handed their phones to take a photo, harmlessly mistaken as a bystander. not only were you then asked to join the photo, but subong laughed heartily on the walk home upon hearing one of the girls' face dropped hearing the news that he's taken.

the bottles emptied on your coffee table, you ended the night rolling your hips atop his, holding onto his shoulders as his hands held onto either globes of your ass, looking up at you whilst you rode his cock. your dress pants for work were discarded on the floor, panties pushed to the side for his condom-less dick, biting your bottom lip when his palm massaged your breast through your blouse. nothing was in the room besides your breathy gasps, his low groans, the squeak of sweaty skin against the cheap faux leather of the couch, and his whispers . . . "you look so beautiful, baby. so fucking sexy." subong's eyebrows furrowed deeply, glancing at your swiveling hips before looking back up at you, despite your head being thrown back. "taking this cock so good...f-fuck ... know how to make me feel good, yeah? always know just how to squeeze me, how to make this big, fat cock cum, yeah? tell me, baby."

all you could muster was a whimper and your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt on his shoulders, but that was more than okay with him. his hand trailed up the side of your neck, bringing your head forward. "come here, come here my beautiful baby. my beautiful fucking woman." his lips kissed yours, molding them together repeatedly. his tongue toyed with yours, picking up the speed of your hips, making him grunt into your mouth every time your inner thighs clapped against his lower stomach. you held onto each other tighter, the kiss becoming feverish, only to be broken when his thumb found your clit. you came in what felt like seconds, and before you knew it, the words slipped out: "i love you!" you whimpered, riding out the high of your intense orgasm, subong having pulled out and spilling onto his thigh. "i love you, i love you!" you repeated breathily. through the pounding of his temples, he heard. through your laborious breathing, you didn't register that he said nothing back.

subong loved you too. he's known for a while now. but that was precisely the problem—he knew, and he wasn't going to say shit. what was the reason? perhaps it was a fucked up way of protecting you by stonewalling that part of him, perhaps it was selfishness, perhaps it was the inferiority complex making him feel like he didn't deserve someone as patient, as transformative, and as loving as you, and he questioned every day why he hadn't been kicked to the fucking curb yet, even after a year and a half together. or maybe ... it was that fucking mg coin ...

he started watching that fuckass man a couple months before the rap battleground competition after a friend tipped him off about crypto. you peered over his shoulder after settling into bed, hearing parts of a youtube video through his phone speaker. "i stopped trying to understand that shit when they told me a picture of an ape is somehow currency." you muttered, making him laugh. "yeah. you're right, hm?" he let out a yawn, clicking his phone off before taking you in his arms, falling asleep with your head on his chest.

but then, it was like a flip switched. subong saw something you didn't (delusion), and seemed to be watching myung gi's videos at what felt like any chance he had. he watched him in the morning, sat at the small dining table in the kitchen as he ate leftover kimbap from dinner the night previous, already annoying you at barely 10 AM whilst pouring yourself cereal, sitting across from him on this rare saturday off. you eyed his phone, "i thought you dropped that shit." you said between chewing. his eyes stayed glued to his screen, putting another slice into his mouth. "i don't know, baby. i think he has a point. people are getting rich quick off this crypto shit. i might have to play my hand, y'know?" before you could respond, he reached over, wiping a rogue drop of milk that slipped from the corner of your mouth, sucking it off his thumb before pressing 'skip ad'. you reached over, clicking his phone off and turning it face down. "hey!—" "you talk like you routinely pay for this wifi." you said, looking into his eyes. "you talk about 'playing your hand' when you don't have the decency to spend 5,000 won on wired headphones so i don't have to hear this shit all day?"

his lip twitched in annoyance, eyes widening. "don't get smart with me!" he exclaimed. you scoffed and waved your hand dismissively, eating another scoop of your cereal. "i'll go get some headphones after i eat if that's what you really want, damn!" "if you invest in something invisible, you do it with your own money so you reap the punishment." you say. "i will." subong rolled his eyes, eating his last slice of kimbap, but irritably. "he knows his shit. says the coin'll blow up." he mumbled, glancing at you when you got up. you held his face, leaning down and pressing a kiss onto his cheek. "that's what they all say, subong." you collected his and your dishes, bringing them to the sink and beginning to wash.

he funneled money into that coin behind your back no problem. every time a check came in, the slice that went to investing got larger and larger. he kept it hidden by putting aside just enough to not cause suspicion. and turning off notifs at specific times. he said he'd transfer a few months worth of the rent when the money hit his account after rap battleground and a couple of scheduled gigs he won as well, but it was a half-baked lie. he told you the money hit way after it actually did, giving you what he promised but keeping a large sum for himself, because he surprisingly got a return on his investment.

he kept going and going, the high of it all rivaling his pills. he bought limited edition shoes, a pair of earrings you'd been eyeing for a while for your anniversary, and got a couple new tattoos. all of it was hidden well behind his coincidentally coinciding success of his music in the wake of the competition ... damn ... he could get used to the universe dickriding him this hard ...

until it all came crashing down that night on the couch. the same night you confessed, he got a notif from one of his crypto apps that he had lost 30 million won. he bolted out of bed, leaving your sleeping, clueless form behind to smoke a cigarette outside, pacing back and forth in the street, trying to calm himself down at 2:30 in the morning. he stared at those numbers like they were going to change, ultimately convincing himself that it was a mere fluke and that money would come again in no time, stomping his cigarette into the asphalt and heading back upstairs.

it was like a routine: watch myung gi, take notes, invest. watch myung gi, take notes, invest. subong took it to heart when he said viewers would be foolish not to bet. he resented being made to feel stupid. even when the returns were slimmer with each swipe up to refresh, he kept going. he looked you straight in the eyes with an admiring grin on his face, lying through his teeth saying everything was okay. what you didn't know couldn't hurt you, right? right. but it ate away at him. subconsciously, then viscerally.

your confession hung at the back of subong's head for weeks. he tried to avoid it, even attempted to put that frustration into his music, but nothing was satisfactory. his inner turmoil flooded to the surface—avoiding your kiss in the morning before you headed to work, landing your lips on the corner of his mouth before he pecked yours without much thought. you didn't say those three words again, but he saw them on display in the softness of your eyes gazing up at him. he couldn't bare it. it was so easy for him to lie to your face about his whereabouts, how much of a fucking coward was he to not say three words back? especially when he felt them, too?

you noticed the change as well. he'd be gone for longer hours, only texting you back in the later evening. his hand stayed to hisself on sunday mornings. kisses were quick and choppy, not sensual and slow. sex was more rough and rushed. it made you feel so deeply embarrassed, like a teenaged girl made to feel silly and begging for her boyfriend's attention. you hated the feeling, but hated the fact that you let that confession slip more. you always felt he wasn't one to open up like that, but a girl can dream, can't she?

then it descended into utter madness. you came home from work later than usual, having to finish last minute assignments for someone who didn't show up. you nearly exploded at the haze of smoke filling your apartment, dropping your purse on the floor. there were bottles of soju and half-eaten food littering the kitchen counters and floor, the fridge left wide open, sure to have spoiled the rest of your leftovers. your eyes then found subong and his friend, a stranger to you, so fucking high that drool leaked out of the corner of their mouths.

"out!" you yelled, enraged. "get the fuck out!" neither of them moved until the piercing sound of the soju bottle you threw at the wall, shattering into pieces, jolted their senses awake. you grabbed the friend by his tank top, yanking him out of his seat like a fucking rag doll, and shoved him out the door. "the fuck! get ... get your—tell your bitch to fucking chill, bro!" the man's words slurred, only for him to nearly stumble down the stairs when you hurled another bottle at him. "don't ever fucking come back here!" you yelled.

"jesus fucking christ, you're so fucking loud." subong muttered, now standing and rubbing his fingers against his temples. "what the fuck is wrong with you! you've never done shit like this before!" you yelled, paying no mind to his wincing. "the fuck are you talking about? i get high, you know this—" "yeah, i do! but never like this. in our fucking house, subong!"

it was then that you saw the syringe and tinfoil on the coffee table. even in your blistering anger, you took his wrists in your hands, looking over his arms. "since when did you do hard shit? huh?" you muttered. his eyebrows furrowed, looking over to the table with hooded eyes. "what? i...i don't." his words slurred, a low burp gurgling out from his lips, shaking his head. "my friend fucks around with that. not me. i stick to pills and vape, baby. i swear."

you let go of his wrists, running a hand through your hair and pacing. the smoke had cleared. you turned around, seeing him laying his temple against the fridge, mouth hung open and eyes closed. you slowly walked up to him, not sure where to begin, your hands reaching up and holding his face. "baby." you said, him grunting in response. "i don't ... i don't know what's going been going on with you lately. you've been so distant and ... and cold. and then coming home to this ... subong, you're—you're scaring me a little."

he groaned weakly, chin sinking downward before you caught him, holding his face up whilst looking into his hooded eyes. your heart felt punctured. "is it ... is it because i said i love you? is it because of that?" his eyes opened, making way for his frustrated grimace. he shook his head, lip curling in what you mistook as disgust, when in reality he was outwardly sickened by himself. "you don't know fucking shit about anything, bitch."

your face fell, eyes watering. you let go of him, his cheek flattened against the fridge, barely stabilizing himself against it. you took a step back. a million thoughts ran through your mind, but one prevailed amongst all of them: what i've been avoiding has shown itself to be true. a tear escaped your waterline, but your voice was stable. "get out." you sniffled, wiping your cheek. "get out, subong."

"huh?" he mumbled, gradually opening his eyes. "i said get the fuck out of my house, subong." "what? i'm not going—" he burped again. "i'm not going fucking anywhere." he wagged a finger in your face. you swatted his arm away, grabbing him by the hem of his shirt and yanked him with all of your might, pushing his back, shoving him out the door even after he tripped over your purse. you slammed the door and locked it before he got to his feet again. "hey!" he yelled. he inhaled sharply through his nose. "open the damn door, you fucking bitch!" he pounded on the door with his palm. "come back when you stop acting like a fucking child!" you yelled, hitting the door back repeatedly. "and not turn my place into a fucking trap house, you piece of shit!"

"what about all that money i gave you, huh!? for rent? and your fucking groceries? give me those fucking earrings you have on, you never fucking deserved them anyway—" "fuck no!" you shouted over him. "this is the least i fucking deserve after your fucking pennies, you cheap piece of shit! if you're so loaded, then fuck off!" subong pressed his mouth to edge of the door, seething. "throwing your boyfriend out like this? when i'm making it big, huh? you'll come to regret this—" you bursted out laughing almost maniacally, a very strange mixture of anger, frustration, and hilarity brewing in your chest. he could be so fucking ridiculous. "m-making it big?" you repeated, laughing so hard you clutched your stomach and wiped tears from your face. it was cathartic. "i-if you're 'making it big,' subong, then—then i'm a lost member of the royal fucking family!" you exclaimed. "how's the fund for greece, huh? still plan on taking me for valentine's? or are you going to continue to clog my toilet because you're still too cheap to buy fresh meat?" "shut the fuck up!" he roared, slamming his palm against the door and wiggling the doorknob.

a neighbor opened their door, avoiding eye contact and stepping around the broken glass to take out their trash, visibly not wanting to be caught in the firestorm taking place in the hall. subong grew embarrassed, turning back to the closed door with a new plea to avoid the atomically sinking feeling. "open the door. please, baby. let's talk this out." he spoke, trying to keep his voice level, wiping his nose with the side of his thumb. when you didn't answer, he kept going. "i'm sorry for all the trouble, baby. let me make it up to you, yeah? just open the door, and we can talk this out. c'mon, baby, the neighbors'll hear—" "let them fucking hear!" you yelled, making him flinh. you leaned closer to the edge of the door, directly parallel to him. "what's that bullshit you always say, huh? any attention is good attention, if you know what to do with it? well, eat your fucking words then, subong! be a man for once in your stupid life!" his eyes widened, vein popping out of his temple. "fuck you, you fucking whore!" he slammed the door repeatedly, the two of you creating a cacophony when you started hitting it, too. "fuck you too, dumbass!"

it was eerily silent that evening in your apartment. you, alone, cleaning up the mess he left behind. carefully sweeping up shattered glass, plastic bags, food wrappers, washing the dishes, cleaning out the fridge, etc. subong was universe knows where. you didn't have the energy to think about him, not even bothering to look around on your walk to the convenience mart to buy ramen for dinner. the emotional turmoil sank into your chest when you sat at the same kitchen table where chaos unfolded at mere hours ago to eat. you barely swallowed the first mouthful before you sank into tears, shoulders shaking, pressing the back of your hand to your lips to console yourself. how could everything have fallen apart so quickly?

you and subong didn't speak for three months. he called and texted those first couple weeks, but that fizzled out, and you didn't answer at all. you didn't owe him anything, especially after the shit he put you through. the wound was still felt too fresh, sensitive enough to do anything but wallow in the silence, heading back out to bars with your friends on the weekends.

none of your friends dared to say much. you were offered apologetic words, but a fool wouldn't notice the air of i told you so in their tone. even with you ceasing caring to cover the healing hickies, being much more subdued on nights out, or your eye bags deepening in the wake of the break up, you were mainly left to wallow in your own grief. you felt it was half deserved and half fucking rude.

but as more time went on, you felt hurt by the fact that subong didn't show back up. not once. not even a mean note on your door, or sign of attempted entry. did he really not fucking care that much? he was just a man, after all ... but then again, not every man is reduced to grateful tears after eating pussy. or looks at you like a renaissance painting come to life when you're retouching his fucking hair dye. when you got home one night, a little tipsy from the cocktails you had, you clicked on those unread text messages— ranging from Baby i'm sorry please talk to me; Stop being so fucking stubborn; ileft my keytthere I dont wantt it back u fknng cnutt; to I don't deserve you i fucked up please baby—and listening to those voicemails.

one resonated with you, even in your inebriated state: "hi ... um, it's been, like, four days since we ... and i, uh—i feel weird. and i don't like it at all. i know you're at work right now but i can't bring myself to show my face and i fucking hate it. i don't like being a coward. but you ... you're ... you're just ... you need to stop. you can't keep doing this to me. you make me feel things i've never felt and it fucking scares me. and you cut me off before i could even say my bit. how is that fair? you can't just come into my life like that and walk away before i get a say. you can't change my life and me and then just throw me away. i know ... i know i'm not the best guy. but even i don't deserve to be thrown out like—" he was cut off and did not call back. "oh my god. what a fucking idiot." you murmured, rubbing your temple with your fingers.

but the universe loves to throw curveballs, because you saw him two weeks later at a bar a few blocks down from the club you first met at. subong saw you long before you saw him that night. he'd spent so much of the last four months feeling a spectrum of emotions, coping with his frustration by daydreaming about what he'd say the next time he saw you—all of the insults to suffice for his anger, all of the things he'd say to make you feel bad for how you treated him—all cogs in his self-deflection apparatus. but when he actually saw you, sat alone at the bar with no friend group in sight, drinking what looked to be martini, he was at a loss for words. even his emotionally daft ass was aware enough to sense something was different about you. more muted, more subdued. that's what she fucking gets. his inner monologue was unforgiving, only for him to peer over a tall strangers shoulder to keep his softened eyes on you. but she ... she can't be alone. not here.

subong was really good at blending into the crowd, until he got too close, and by chance you glanced up and saw him. he was close enough to hear you suck in a breath through your teeth, and see your eyes widen in panic the same time his did. without thinking, you got up from your seat, grabbing your purse hanging on the back of your chair, forgetting you hadn't even taken a second sip of your overpriced drink. subong stepped out of the crowd, "don't go." he said gentler than anticipated, before remembering he was supposed to be livid. his expression hardened, lips tightened, hand grabbing for your arm. "we need to talk."

"i don't have anything to fucking say to you." you say sharply, not looking at him, keeping your voice low to not cause commotion. "yes the fuck you do." he bit back. you tried to pull your arm out of his grip, failing. "let me go or i'll throw my drink in your face." "really?" he smirked. "i didn't take you to be so careless with your money." you look up, eyebrows raised, meeting his eyes for the first time in months. "oh, that's funny. do you still think you're up and coming? or have you come to terms with the fact that you're an illiterate fuck who steals IP just to still write shit fucking bars?"

subong closed much of the remaining gap between you. "shut your fucking mouth, you bitch." he seethed through gritted teeth. you look him dead in the eyes, "see what i mean? you still can't come up with anything new, and you've had all this time." you pulled at his grip again, but he was strong. "let me go." "you didn't listen to me before, so you're going to listen now." "like the fuck i am!" you looked at him like he was crazy. you pulled again, finally freeing your arm. you grabbed your drink, purse in your other hand. "now leave me alone." you say. "or i'll throw this drink right in your fucking eyes."

you turned and walked deeper into the dimly lit bar; just anywhere that was not where he was. you found an empty booth, sitting down with a huff, taking a hefty swig of your martini. you shot up when you saw him walk over, putting your arm in position, only for subong to put his hands up, one hovering over your drink. "don't throw it! don't!" "do you not know how to fucking listen!?" "you don't know how, either!" he shot back. "why did you never respond to my texts or calls?" "don't ask me that with that stupid look on your face like it's as bad as you bringing a fucking stranger and hard drugs into my home!" you exclaimed. "which, by the way, in all of your rambling voicemails and texts, you've never once apologized for." "so you did read them?" "that's not the fucking point, subong!" "yes, it is! to me!" "and what? you don't think it matters to me that you never said 'i love you' back? that i felt like a fucking teenage girl, waiting at her boyfriend's beck and call to care about her?"

people were starting to stare, but your sense of decorum was long gone. he got up in your face, and you took him up at that challenge. "i care! i fucking cared!" he stared into your eyes in frustration, pushing his fingers into his chest in a desperate gesture. "well, you didn't do a good job of showing it. because at some point, i felt my loneliest even when you were beside me, snoring like fucking pug and dutch ovening the blanket."

subong, at a loss for words, too choked up on his anger and long-suppressed complicated feelings boiling to the surface, turned to what he knew best: low hanging fruit. after a moment, he collects himself. a smug smirk stretches across his face, taking a step back and glancing at the dated wall art behind you. he shook his head, looking down at the floor with a chuckle. "and here i was, thinking you were secretly pregnant with my kid or something." he said. your eyebrows furrowed, deeply confused. this was stupid, even for him. "what?" you shook your head. "what the fuck are you talking about—" "—it makes sense that you wouldn't want to tell me. too much for you too handle. but then i saw you tonight, and you looked more bloated than usual, so i thought i was right. but then you were drinking—" he yelped when the cold gin splashed in his face, flinching at the glass bouncing off his chest, shattering next to his foot. gasps erupted throughout the room. subong hastily wiped his eyes, feeling them burn. "fucking bitch!" "your children would be lucky to never know their deadbeat of a fucking father."

you stormed off, heading into the nearby women's bathroom. heartbeat in your throat, you turned on a sink, rinsing the alcohol off your hands. you didn't look up when the door hit the wall, or when subong yelled "fuck off!" to the other three women in the room, causing a brief scurry of heels out the door. he pushed you out of the way, rinsing his eyes. "i should go and file a fucking police report on you." he mumbled. he looked up at you, expression angry, even with his squinting eyes. "i should've written 'sex slave' on my tax forms, too, with how you treated me!"

you pushed him right back, collecting a handful of water from the running sink with your palm, and throwing it at his face. "when was the last time you paid your taxes? hm!?" you exclaimed. "do you even know where your bank is? did you ever buy a new toothbrush after the one you had became a clump of bristles and i had to get one for you like a fucking mother!?" you yelled, using both palms and throwing more water; some hitting the floor, some splashing on yourself, but most wetting his face and clothing. "hey!" his voice boomed. he took a step forward, slipping, but caught himself on the edge of the sink. he turned the water off, landing your hand atop his in a failed effort to stop him. "you don't get to speak to me like that!" he yelled. "i can speak however i want to!" you yelled louder, making him wince, cursing under his breath. "you lost your chance when you made me feel crazy for loving you. i don't know how i could've even liked you!"

"hey!" subong's voice echoed off the walls. "your voice is so fucking shrill! you're giving me a fucking headache!" he pushed his fingers into his temple. he pointed at you, unwavering when you smacked it away. "don't act like you're fucking innocent, either—let me fucking finish!" you closed your mouth, crossing your arms over your chest. "see, this is what your problem is. you don't let anyone speak, or want to do anything i like. all those times you laughed in my face, didn't take me seriously, or tossed my career away like it was garbage, like some fucking fly you couldn't swat away." he waved his hand in front of his face, mimicking the gesture. "well, i'm sorry i put a roof over your head when you were piss poor broke." your voice was eerily leveled, staring so hard into his eyes you could've burned holes into his retinas. "and didn't act like you were nominated for grammys in fucking return."

"'laughed?' 'didn't take seriously?'" you repeated his words, eyebrows furrowing. "who dyed your stupid fucking purple hair? who reminded you to write songs? who pushed you to call clubs? who yelled at pervert managers to get you fair pay!?" your voice escalated. subong's eyes drifted to the tiled floor, head hanging lower than before. you took a breath. "subong, i—" he met your eyes at the mention of his name. "i invented you."

his expression soured, hating that you were right and faced with his own cowardice once again. but he would rather give himself up to his loan shark than show it. "invented is the right word." subong spoke lowly, nodding. his hand came up to his head, making a screwing gesture. "false ideas—you have false ideas of who i am. you played with me like a toy." you were in disbelief. "p-played you? like ... like a toy?" you began to stutter through this newfound upheaval of anger, something that made your face feel hot and stomach churn, increasingly irritated with each second you couldn't get the words out. "you!—you!" you hit your palm on the edge of the sink, sending your purse to the floor. "you came so hard that i thought i had to go to urgent care to get you an oxygen mask!" every word sounded more strained than before. you inhaled deeply, running against a ticking timer in your head to when he'd open his mouth next. you gestured at a bathroom stall door, but in your head, it was a memory. "you held onto me so tightly after your performances or at home or—or eating dinner to the point where i had to eat with one hand!" you closed the gap, your pointer finger brushing against the tip of his nose. "at some point, you couldn't fall asleep unless you felt my fucking heartbeat, motherfucker!"

"and you did all of that," you gestured around you. "just to fuck me over, and make me realize i've wasted my time loving someone who doesn't give half a fucking shit whether i live or die!" "i care!" his voice boomed. "how many times do i have to say that!?" "until your last goddamn breath." you retort without hesitation. "and with how you live, that should be right around the corner." "are you saying i should die?" "what? no, subong. of course not." you shook your head. "that's not what i—that's not what i meant." "so what did you mean?" "what i mean was—no, stop distracting. you know exactly what i meant." with your next look at him, you saw them: his manicured hands, equipped with different colors on all fingernails. oh, you hated how quickly your mind shifted gears, how quickly the worries of the imaginary teenage girl clouded your logic and best judgment, but none more than this being what your eyes began watering over. "who ... who did that?" you asked, your suddenly quieted voice catching subong off guard.

"what?" he asked, confused. his eyes followed your gaze, landing at his hands, eyebrows raising at the realization that this was his chance at getting the upper hand: "someone i saw." he lied. it wasn't wholly untrue, but dubiously framed; the nail tech was a woman, so he did see her, just not in the way he just purposefully vaguely implied. he needed something to jab at you, to knock you down a peg like it was a schoolyard fight, but even he couldn't smirk at the hurt on your face. in fact, he regretted those words the moment he said them. "who is she?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper. subong had never seen you look so devastated like this before. it made him feel an instinct that straightened his posture, unaware of what to do next, standing awkwardly. he attempted to say these next words with venom, but he couldn't even believe them himself, almost sounding as subdued as you: "it's none of your fucking business."

your heart drops. you feel nauseous. if subong had blinked, he would've missed your curt nod. you didn't bother wiping the tear trailing your cheek, his eyes watching as you pick up your purse from the floor, ears perking at your sniffle. "okay." you whispered, but you were so quiet that your voice nearly blended with the air vent. you started walking, fully intending to never turn back around, until his hand on your wrist stopped you. "wait—" "stop!" you said sharply, yanking out of his grip before he could close his fingers entirely. you held your hands in the air before circling around, your eyes landing on his. his face fell. you looked perishable, drained of an essence he couldn't fathom you without. oh, he'd really done it this time.

you lunged forward, nail of your pointer finger scratching against his nose. "you don't get to do this to me, s-subong!" you exclaimed, trying to keep your voice steady, but the tears stifle the effort. you couldn't contain the sob. he was mortified at the sight. "it's ... it's not fair." you whispered meekly. your hands trailed to his chest, balling into fists as you cried. he stood there, frozen, mouth agape like a fool. subong raised his hand, petting your hair with a light, unsure touch. "it's fi—" he sucked in a surprised breath through his teeth when you started swatting his chest, pushing and shoving at him in a pitiful tantrum. subong took it silently, putting his hands up, face contorting uncomfortably at the sound of your cries. his bottom lip started to quiver as time went on. he couldn't tell what he hated more: the fact he lost the fight, or the fact he cared about that to begin with.

"that's enough. hey—" subong inhaled sharply through his nose. he grabbed both of your wrists, holding them in place. "that's enough." he hoped to whatever higher power you didn't hear the quiver. he swallowed, resting his forehead against yours. your hands went limp. he let go, feelings your palms trail up to his face. "you're mine." you spoke weakly. his mouth fell open, staring at your lips whilst you begged for his eyes; earning you such when your hand on his cheek guided him to your gaze. "do you hear me?" you whispered. "you're mine, subong. no one elses." you shook your forehead against his, your tragic desperation ailing him. "mhm." his hands trailed your waist. "i'm yours, baby. all yours."

with a shaky hand, your fingers ran through his hair, thumb so close to his lips he pressed a skeleton of a kiss onto it. "i'm sorry i threw my drink at you." you cry, voice stuck at a whisper. "i'm so sorry, subong—" "stop." his low voice shushes you, nose nestling beside yours, slowly trailing to your neck. he inhaled your scent, eyes rolling back when your fingers brushed past his cartilage piercing. "i had it coming." his nose found its way back to your cheek, pressing kisses onto the warm, wet skin. "why didn't you come home, subong? i .. i've been waiting for so long." his bottom lip quivered again, but his voice was utmost steady: "you never asked."

"i—i shouldn't have to!" you swatted at his chest. "you idiot!" "i know, i know. i've been really fucking stupid." his voice cracks. subong leans in, but you turn away. "i can't. it's not good for me." "can't you see we're dying without each other?" he pleads, his hands turning your head to look at him. "look at me, look at you! just one, baby. please." his breath brushed against your cheeks, his hands holding either side of your face. "i can't ... i can't go on without you."

with a shaky breath and fresh tears falling down your cheeks, you closed the gap. a guttural moan rumbled through your chest, subong whimpering desperately. his arms wrap tightly around your waist, your hands holding his face for dear life—the kiss slow and purposeful, making up for lost time, a conversation no words could say. subong's palms made way to your ass, acting on pure muscle memory. he angled his head, introducing his tongue into the equation, having to quickly bend his knees to catch your fidgety form. "i'm not going anywhere." he unintentionally stifled the most heavenly moan he's ever heard from you. you broke the kiss for air. subong wasted no time, returning to his favorite spot on your neck, holding you in place firmly. your head fell back, letting him do whatever he so pleased—your hand on the back of his head wielding the power of casting a centuries-long trance.

he sucked and licked with precision, like a day hadn't gone by. he even hummed in concentration, mouth popping off of your soft skin until the bruise was to his liking. "s-subong." you whined, needing his lips back, your fingers messily carding through his hair. "i'm almost done." he was gentle, even if he was ignoring the concrete fucking lump in his pants and starting to sweat over your warmth against his. he latched off, fingers tracing the bluish-red spot with satisfaction. "come here, pretty girl." his slightly swollen lips made your eyebrows furrow pathetically, the kiss felt sticky, your lips sown with his. "i need you." you murmured. "i need you." "stall. the bathroom stall."

you grabbed his hand, rushing to the closest one, pulling him inside. neither of you think to close the door, letting it bang against the wall after swinging it open. subong's lips returned to yours, but his hands pat his pockets, feeling his phone and wallet, unsure: "i don't—i don't have a condom." "it's okay, it's okay." you assure truthfully, hurriedly kissing him as if he'd disappear if you let go. "it'll be just like how we used to, hm?" "turn around for me."

you do, placing your hands on the bathroom stall wall to hold yourself up. subong pulls your pants down to your ankles, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down just enough to grind his hardened cock against your ass, leaving nothing to the imagination, even with the barrier of his briefs and your underwear. "s-subong!" you gasped, back arching, pushing your ass farther onto him, feeling his cock closer to your aching pussy but not quite there yet. "how could you take this away from me?" he whispered into your ear, breath hitching vulnerably as he tried to keep himself composed, the plush of your round ass making his mind mush. "from us?" subong's hands snuck past the hem, grabbing at the powdery softness of either globes of your ass. his bottom lip suffered between his teeth, watching his hands work underneath the fabric, squeezing firmly. your nails clawed at the wall, eyes fluttering closed whenever his cool rings cinched around your hot skin. "stop teasing." your cheek collided with his nose, not realizing how close his face was to yours.

subong kissed your supple skin like instinct. "you'll take this dick like a good fucking girl, right?" he was so close to your ear the tip of his nose smushed against the stall wall. "y-yes!" you helplessly paw at the wall. his hand pulled down your underwear, rutting himself against your bare ass. his fingers maneuvered between your legs, middle finger sinking between your folds and encircling, keeping you steady between him and the wall. when he finds that sensitive bundle of nerves, he feels faint, cursing under his breath as your guttural grunt that bounced off the walls. "s-subong—" your voice sounded dry from the earlier arguing and succumbing to your illustrious libido. "i know, baby, i know." his fingers were unrelenting. christ, you were so fucking wet. "just wait for a little longer, and i'll fuck this pussy like the good boy you know i fucking am."

his fingers came to a gradual halt. whilst your chest heaved, he sucked on the tip of his middle finger, licking it clean. "i'm getting on my knees. don't move." he pulled your underwear down, peering up at the puffy lips he has to thank for opening his third eye. you cover your mouth, his warm tongue delving between your folds, scared of what you might sound like if you let go. for the next minute, all that fills the bathroom are the lewd sounds of his tongue nursing your sweet pussy and your muffled whimpers. a crude smack on your left globe followed by a harsh squeeze was the unspoken: let me fucking hear you. "o-oh!" you cried out. "o-oh my fucking god!"

you pushed your ass onto his face, your eyes crossing over the vibrations of his satisfied moan against your clit, squeezing them shut. he lapped your hole repeatedly, swallowing, taking a breath before adjusting his knees on the floor. subong's thumbs spread your lips apart, latching his mouth onto your clit and sucking. the curvature of your back deepened, head thrown back, a cry of pure lust brewing out of your diaphragm, heartbeat stuttering when his tongue lapped the bundle without mercy. "r-right there! just, just—ngh! hngh!—just l-like that!" "where? here?" he asked knowingly, tongue replaced by his finger, rubbing your clit mercilessly. his other hand fished his cock out from his briefs, beginning to stroke himself.

it was a cacophony of wet slick, choked moans, and squelching heat. nothing could deter it, not even the pair of friends that walked in the bathroom, chatting away and completely unaware, only to quickly back out of the room widened eyes and whispers of "oh my god, did you see them?" and "on a tuesday?" it was a sight to behold: your ass in his face; a mixture of his saliva and your slick trailing down his chin, quickly wiped by the back of his hand when he took a breath, but smearing nonetheless; his precum leaking onto the floor; your moans so delicate and raw any erotic film director would beg on their knees to cast you; and subong's affirming mhms and thats rights as he sucks and laps your clit.

subong knew you were close when your thighs began to shake. "give it to me." his hand ceased pumping his dick, both thumbs separating your puffy lips farther than before, running his tongue over your clit. "give it to me, mama," your moan made his dick twitch, eyebrows deeply furrowed, fucked-out gloss coating his eyes. "give it to me, baby, come on—" "ngh!" your body squirmed, nails scraping against the wall, one hand reaching for the top, thighs clenching around his head as your orgasm took over your body. subong was stubborn—his palms pressing your back down further, tongue unrelenting through your high, swallowing whatever you gave him. he slowed when your breathing leveled, suckling one last time before rising to his feet.

he pushed your shirt up, kissing the top of your spine, then the back of your shoulder. "hey," he said gently, hearing your shaky breaths. "still with me?" "mhm." you nod, bottom lip caught between your teeth, trying your best to remain standing. his lips kissed your temple, "everything okay?" "mhm," was all you were able to muster. "f-felt really good. needed it." "me too. i dreamt about you, baby." he whined, lips pressed to your skin. "i dreamt about you so much." his breathing became ragged, tip of his cock red and angry. "tugged at my dick so much and i never came as good as when i was with you. now you made me cum just from eating your pussy. do you see what you've done to me? do you see what you've done to your precious subongie?"

you feel dizzy, lifting your head for air. "put it in." you whisper. you push your ass into him, moaning at the feeling of his cock rutting against you. "put it in, subongie." he slowly pushed his tip in, eventually enveloped by your gummy walls. his face contorted—"how're you so much tighter than before!?" his voice was notably higher, barely moving his hips, slowly inching out of you. "h-haven't had anyone else," you sucked in a tight breath. "b-been waiting for you—hngh!" oh, you were so back ... you couldn't help the satisfied smile that stretched across your face, ears filled with his needy whines and blubbering incoherently about how much he missed you, and his girthy cock stretching you out in the way you deserve. "fuck me, subongie," you said breathlessly. "fuck me the way you dream about." "i won't last, you're so fucking tight!—" "—be the good boy you said you'd be!"

with that, he got to work. his pelvis hit your ass, not rapidly, but with reverberating force, moaning and whining like it was the last thing he'd ever do. your mouth fell open, body shaking with every thrust, eyes squeezed shut. you gasped when his hand reached into your bra, holding your left breast, biting your lip as your nipple hardened against his palm. you looked over your shoulder, catching sight of your jiggling globes every time he thrusted. "faster," you said. "faster and harder, s-subong. i—fuck!—i n-need you so b-badly!" he grabbed either side of your hips, pounding into you through his intensifying blurry haze, balls slapping against you so unapologetically that, if someone got close enough, it could've been heard from outside the door. subong wasn't showing off; he wasn't outdoing himself, to him, this was making love. here he was, fucking the woman of his dreams (he got her back!!,) hearing those moans he was so afraid would escape his memories, and fortunate to be feeling and fucking her divine pussy. talk about a jackpot.

"a-agh! f-fuck!" he cried out, hips stuttering as you began fucking him back. he looked down at the sight, watching his creamy cock disappear and reappear at your volition, his indescribable pleasure displayed on his face, envied by empty canvases wishing to capture such raw human emotion. "n-no, no!" he gasped, feeling your pussy clench around him, that knot forming in his abdomen. "y-you're killing me, baby," he panted. "b-baby—ngh!—s-stop, need to f-fuck you. m'gonna cum s'quick if you—if you, f-fuck!" you stopped abruptly, slamming against his pelvis with a shaky breath. "i'm almost there, too." you said. you sunk a little lower, pushing your ass against him. "k-keep going, my love. you're doing so good. always know how to fuck this pussy so good, hm? yeah? best dick i've ever fucking had." you whine, feeling his cock pulsate in your cunt. you look over your shoulder, feeling his hand squeeze your left asscheek, "wanna cum in me?" wanna cum in me so much that i make you a daddy? yeah?" a wall-rattling gasp shattered out of your lungs when he thrust into you hard, once. then twice. "you're going to be the fucking death of me."

subong pounded into your tight pussy mercilessly, brushing against that spongy spot deep in your cunt with little effort at the angle you were in now. "right there, right t-there! o-oh my god, f-fuck—fuck! s-subong—subong! keep going! you feel so f-f-fucking good!" your whorish mewls were no match for his. he was a goner; bottomed out; becoming lightheaded. he kept going, kept hitting that spongy haven, but it wasn't a knot in your abdomen that fleshed goosebumps across your skin, embarking on its unravel—it was deeper, more carnal than that—but before you could register it, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and your leg felt wet. "o-oh—oh my g-god—" you were a mumbling mess through this indescribable orgasm, wholly aware of your body but lost in your lustful haze. subong knew exactly what was going on. it brought him over the edge. "f-fuck! fuck! fuck!" warmth coated your walls, chock-full of his cum, trailing down your thigh with your squirt. he slowed his thrusts, moving so delicately it was as if his cock was made of glass.

he stopped moving, cock resting inside your warm cunt. you were in your own world, weakly holding onto the wall, ears ringing, temples pounding. your senses cleared albeit minutely with his hands holding your shoulders, helping you stand up better. you raised your arm, planting it before you and resting your forehead against it, taking deep breaths. subong pulled out, tutting softly hearing your quiet gasp, palm tracing your lower back as a silent i know, i know. his chest heaving, subong's hand reached over, trying to tuck your hair behind your ear to talk to you, but stops when he sees your earrings—the ones he gave you all those months ago; the ones he said you didn't deserve during that explosive argument. unexpectedly to him, his eyes started to water, quickly pressing a kiss onto the back of your shoulder, mouth muffled against the fabric of your top. in the midst of your labored breathing, you don't overhear: "i love you," he whispered. he pressed another kiss. "i love you."

after a few moments, you stood up steadily, making subong lift his head. your hand aimlessly reached behind you for him."you made me ... you made me—" "—i know, i know." he spoke gently. your senses found him when his arm wrapped around your waist, lips pressing a kiss to your temple and staying there. your hand reached up, coaxing your fingers through his hair. "have we ... have we ever done that before?" "i don't think we did." "yeah ... i figured." your eyes were still closed, slowly opening when his lips peppered kisses on your jaw. "i don't—" you swallowed, mouth dry. "i don't know if i can walk straight." both of you couldn't help but laugh, his forehead resting against your temple. "you know," he cleared his throat. "i think someone came in when i was eating you out." "oh god." you murmured. "did they say anything?" "i was kinda busy to notice if they did." he chuckled lowly. "right, right."

the heat of your apartment woke you up in the middle of the night, lazily tugging the duvet of your sweaty body. subong's light snores became background noise after a press of a button, the air conditioning kicking in. in your sleepy state, you squinted at the time on the oven: 4:27 AM. shuffling to the bathroom, you emerged a few minutes later, filling a glass of water from the kitchen tap. after taking a sip, you walked to the ac unit, eyes closed whilst you cooled down, wind flowing modestly through your hair.

feeling refreshed enough, you headed back to bed. you carefully slid your glass onto the nightside table, hoping there was a enough space on the already small and cluttered surface—equipped with yours and subong's charging phones, hair ties, ibuprofen, whatever else you were too lazy to properly put away, and not lit since there was no room for a lamp—but guessed wrong, accidentally sliding both phones off. a loud clatter rang throughout the apartment, "shit!" you cursed under your breath, quickly eyeing subong. he didn't flinch, snoring peacefully. you picked the phones up, plugged his back in, and set them onto the table securely. a notif came up on his screen. by chance, your eyes glanced over. what was a mere peek became a full on stare.

it was from a crypto app. you didn't have to be a genius to know; the word was in the name of the fucking app. you read the notif before his screen went dark: You have an update on your investment. Tap to view. you have got to be fucking kidding me. you thought to yourself. without thinking, you unplugged his phone, tapping his screen to see it again. but the notif was now hidden, requiring his face id or passcode to view. is his passcode still the same as before? you wondered, thinking of those times he'd let you use his phone to connect him to the wifi, or send yourself photos from dates he'd always forget to. you look over your shoulder at his sleeping form, clueless. forget ethics, forget respecting privacy, forget trusting your partner; your brain was in overdrive. this better fucking work. you swipe up, typing 6969—it works. you tap the notif, the app loads quickly. your eyes run over an interface filled with lingo you don't know or care for and usernames that should be put on a watchlist, but then you find it: his profile. you click the icon on the bottom right corner, seeing the Investments tab with an encircled 1 next to it, clicking it, waiting for the screen to load. it only took a couple of seconds, but it was long enough to make you nervously gnaw at your bottom lip and tap your foot. then it loaded.

-850 MILLION KRW — in unmissable red at the top of the screen, above a graph you could only guess illustrated the fluctuation of his money, and other bullshit you couldn't comprehend in the moment. you stared. in silence, numb. before you knew it, the number changed: -1.19 BILLION KRW. your thumb acted before your brain could, scrolling, finding the extensive histories of his investments. he was betting hourly during the day with money he certainly did not have, losing thousands. you scrolled even deeper, finding investments from before you broke up. 50,000 krw here, 5 million there, 30 million another day .... he'd been lying that entire time. selfishly keeping more for himself, all the while consoling your crying state from not being able to make rent in time, even with what you suspected to be all he had ("i'm so sorry, baby. you don't deserve this. we don't deserve this. i'll fight your landlord for you, don't worry.") what utter bullshit.

it was all lies. it was all deception. and now he was back in your bed, peacefully asleep like everything was okay. you let him back into your life, thinking everything was going to be fucking okay. you squeeze his phone in your hand, arm shaking. your other hand sinks your fingers into your knee, as if to prevent from screaming; trying to find another outlet for the anger—fuck it! irate, you grab your glass of water and rush to his side of the bed, throwing it onto his face. he shot up immediately. you paced back and forth, eyes rolling at his coughing fit. "wha—what?" his voice was gravely, wiping his eyes. "was that—was that water?" he asked stupidly. "yes it was fucking water!" you spoke loudly, irritated at the sight of his barely opened eyes."what're you yelling for?" his voice was lower than usual, clouded by looming sleep. "it's, like, four in the morning, baby."

"don't you fucking 'baby' me." you muttered, marching up to him. you showed him his screen. "the fuck is this? hm?" "what?" he asked, wiping water off his forehead. you threw his phone onto his lap. "check your fucking investments." he picked up his phone and scrolled. he didn't say a word. you continued to pace like a madwoman, back and forth, nothing filling the air but the skid of the heels of your feet against the floor. you mentally cursed and screamed, thoughts so scrambled that if you opened your mouth all that would come out would be jibberish, so you paced. and paced. and paced. it could've been anywhere between five or ten minutes when you stopped. "well?" you asked sharply, arms crossed over your chest. "how much money did you fucking make?"

"why'd you look at my phone?" asked subong. he was trying so hard to avoid openly showing his shame; his pride prevailing. "that's—" you stuttered. "that's seriously what you're asking right now?" "yes, that's what i'm fucking asking right the fuck now." he looked up at you, meeting your eyes with an unreadable expression. "you just threw water in my face. i get to ask questions." "you're a billion in debt!" you whisper-yelled, afraid your eyes would water if you were any louder. you trudged to his side of the bed, eyes wide and finger to his chest. he stared at you blankly, a twitch of his eyebrow outed his mounting frustration at his stifled shame. "you're a billion in debt, subong. where did you ... where did you even get all that money?" you swallowed, taking a step back, eyes looking everywhere but him to thwart the mounting glossiness. "why did you lie to me? all those times, all those times where i felt like it was the end. where i felt like i was at a dead end." you gestured to the couch with your hand, staring at him. "and you ... you lied. you were selfish, and didn't want to help. i ... i saw everything, subong. i know you kept on lying about your earnings when we were together."

another beat of silence. "subong, why did you put so much money into—" "—why'd you look at my phone? hm?" he interrupted, eyes wide. "why couldn't you just mind your fucking business?" "you're a billion in debt—" "i didn't owe you anything!" subong suddenly yelled, catching you off guard. he ripped the duvet off, marching up to you, finger in your face. "i didn't owe you fucking anything." he repeated, breathing hard through his nostrils. "what was it you said to me? hm? that it's my money, my punishment to have? so let me fucking have it." "you owed me everything!" you yelled, smacking his hand away. "you owed me the fucking truth!" he turned around, walking to the window leading to the balcony, hands roughly rubbing his face and hair. "why didn't you just tell me? why did you hide—" "—i did it all for you."

your eyes widened and jaw fell, appalled. "oh my god." you muttered to yourself, but he overheard. "i'm going fucking crazy. i'm going fucking crazy." you ran your hands through your hair, pacing. "i know you did not just ... i know you did not just say that." you shook your head. "how could you be so fucking stupid. how could i be so fucking stupid?" subong whipped his head around. "hey! don't call me stupid!" he walked up to you, growing angrier with your ignoring him. "hey!" he exclaimed. "don't call me stupid! i'm not stupid for taking initiative, or, or doing shit because i care about you!" his arms flailed.

"oh..." you shook your head, facing him. he felt like a first grader being told off by his teacher, frustratingly shifting his weight between his feet, unsure of where to put this uncomfortable energy. "oh no, subong. this isn't caring. this is being a complete and utter dumbass." you said, eyes porous in realization. tears were no longer in the realm of possibility. now, it was just pity. "there's no coming back from this." you made sure he knew. "you're fucked." "i know that!" he yelled, vein tight in his temple. "you don't think i fucking know that!?" subong's eyebrows furrowed. it was his turn to avoid crying. he looked away hastily, cursing repeatedly under his breath as if it'd ward off his blurring vision. he blinked hard—"i ... i tried everything." he muttered, bottom lip quivering. "i ... made deals with dangerous p-people." he cleared his throat. "i slept on benches. my own mother wouldn't pick up my calls. i've disappointed her too many times. and you ... you," he cleared his throat again. "you weren't an option." he shook his head, a tear landing on his arm. he inhaled sharply through his nose. "but ... but i have this one last chance—"

"—you're hopeless." you cut him off. "you're the worst person i've ever fucking met." subong looked at you, silently pleading to take those words back. "no." he sounded wounded. "you don't ... you don't mean that." "i do. i mean every word." you nodded. "i must have done something really horrible in a past life to be cursed with loving someone as hurtful as you." "no ..." he shook his head, his palms flattening his hair. "you don't mean what you're saying." "i do!" you yelled, voice cracking, heartbeat in your throat. a shaky breath left his lips, eyes staring at the ceiling and blinking fast, waterline feeling heavy. "no ... no, no." he muttered to himself. he took your face in his hands, eyes darting around your features, making them out even in the meek lighting of the slowly emerging sunrise. you stared blankly at the floor, emotionless between his palms.

"you don't mean those words. i know you don't." he spoke aloud, trying to convince himself. "you don't mean them." his fingers combed your hair out of your face. "i've been trying so hard. i'm so fucking scared, baby." subong shook his head quickly, but it didn't halt his falling tears. "i f-fucked up so bad." he whispered, lips quivering. he pressed kisses to your supple skin, attempting to fill the eerie silence. "but i promise—" his lips peppering your face. "i promise i'm going to fix all of this. i have a plan." subong tasted something salty, seeing a tear having fallen down your cheek. "no, no." he tutted gently, kissing it away. "don't cry. you're too beautiful to cry over a loser like me, baby." he kissed that same spot. "no, no. don't cry. here, let me hold you. come here." his lips trailed to the back of your jaw, arms wrapping loosely around your waist. even in his desperation, he was unsure. his eyes glanced at the glimmer of your dainty diamond drop earrings. "the earrings look good on you. you've always had good taste." he muttered against your shoulder. you didn't move. nor say a word. the silence was killing him. "i've been scared for so long." he whispered. your shoulder felt wet. "please ... please hold me."

he said no apology. no "i'm sorry," no "i regret this." it was a tale as old as time: redirected sympathy; a murky, multi-layered distraction, him avoiding taking full responsibility. you sympathized with his pain, you felt his hurt and the monstrous circumstance, but at some fucking point, there is only so much you could do. there is so much strength one could muster; so much mercy a heart could offer. this wasn't your problem, and you weren't going to go out of your way to make it yours. it was time to draw the line. right here, right now. you didn't recognize the man before you. he was a stranger: "subong?" "yes?" he responded quickly, a hint of hope in his tone. "when were you going to tell me about your debt?"

subong was silent, but you spoke for him. "when i get a promotion? when i get laid off? when there's an eviction notice on my door? after we elope at the courthouse, or when i tell you you're the father of my baby? hm? when were you going to tell me?" your voice was unexpectedly gentle. his shoulders started to shake, quietly sobbing. "when, subong? when?" "forgive me." he pleaded. "forgive me. please, baby—" "—get off of me." you pushed him away, slipping out of his embrace. he wiped his face with the back of his hand. "you're—you're the best thing that's ever happened to me." "you're the worst!" you exclaimed. "it's exhausting loving you! it's torture! i'm decaying from the inside!"

you took a breath, looking at this pathetic form. "i've forgiven you too much." you shook your head. "you've made me a stranger to myself. you take, and you take, and you take. i share my home, i let you fuck me, i let myself think you respect me—" "—i d-do, baby, i do! i lo—" "—i let you into the deepest, darkest pits of who i am, and you let me cry over your fucking nail polish while you were throwing away millions into something that isn't even fucking real. and you have the audacity to say it was for me?" you gesture to yourself. "as much as i tried to fix you, stupidity is in incurable disease. you're the dumbest person i've ever fucking met. you're not even smart enough to say 'i'm sorry.'"

"i never want to see you again." you turn around, your back facing him. "you don't know me. i don't know you. get out." this was it. you didn't move your eyes from the kitchen floor tiles as you heard him collect his things—the clinking of his belt; his shallow breaths; his heavy, stuttered footsteps; the clean swoosh of his pants as he put them on; over-pronounced inhales; his shoving of his feet into his sneakers—punctuated by the slam of the door. you slowly turned around. the oven read 4:53 AM. you sat on the couch, the silence heavy, only moderately cut through by the sporadic chirping of the birds outside. you sunk into the cheap cushions, hands coming up to your face, chest convulsing.

subong didn't know how long he'd been walking for. he was numb; eyes wet, cheeks swollen, snot dried, sneakers carelessly dragging against the sidewalk. the sun had risen. he could hear the taxis driving by, or catch in his peripheral vision the sight of people hurriedly leaving their apartment buildings as the morning commute commenced, but his gaze never shifted from aimless. he was wandering; nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. his chest heaved and his heart pounded in his temples, feelings buried in an overly complicated web that made his ears ring. subong's tongue was dry from breathing through his mouth, but he was so out of it he didn't bother to close his jaw.

it was the ring of a pedestrian's bike bell that temporarily took him out of this trance, stumbling a few steps to the right, letting them pass. "i'm sorry." he muttered weakly. it was only then that he looked at his surroundings, realizing he was walking along a bridge. seeing the water flow below him without issue made him feel so inconsequentially small, almost as if the car driving by or the subtle whispers of the leaves rattling in the wind told him that no matter what he did, or what he went through, or what he said, nature will be there before and after. "excuse me, sir." a voice said. subong's head felt heavy, but he turned it nonetheless. it was the man in the suit from a week ago. "i forgot to give you this after our game last week." he handed subong what looked to be a business card. "my sincerest apologies. i kindly ask that you forgive me, sir." with that, he walked away.

you woke up on the couch in the late morning, having slept through your phone alarm. you had the day off, so that wasn't exactly a concern, only to jolt awake from seering pain on side of your neck and lower back from falling asleep in such a cramped, awkward position. it was hot in the apartment again. you gradually stood on your feet, carefully stretching. "fuck." you mutter under your breath. you moved to the bathroom. you peeled your clothes off, throwing them mindlessly into the hamper. before you stepped into the shower, the glimmer of your earrings caught your sight. you tucked your hair back, staring hard into the mirror. memories of the night previous came rushing back. your quivering lip made you mad all over again, quickly taking the earrings off, throwing them into the trash bin without second thought.

you did errands. you went to work the next day. you quit your job three months later, having landed a better paying one on the opposite side of the city. a year later, you were longed moved out of your small studio and into your one bedroom abode, equipped with an in house dryer and washer. you had new friends. you had a new life. in the end, you really did get your wish of never seeing subong again.

#squid game #squid game season 2 #choi subong #choi su bong #choi seunghyun #choi su bong imagine #thanos #thanos imagine #choi seunghyun imagine #bigbang #squid game imagine #choi su bong x reader #squid game s2 #squid game smut

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hardlyinteresting · 24 days ago

Text

Stop in the middle

Jake Seresin x reader

Two sides of the same coin; they were joined at the hip; partners in every way but the romantic. The words “I love you,” had passed between them many times, but neither of them had been brave enough to say, “I’m in love with you”.

So much wine by Phoebe Bridgers Somewhere else by Indians Abbey by Mitski

Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, (call sign Angel), with no physical description, crash landing, wilderness survival, major injuries (non-graphic description), discussions of death, happy ending though (I promise!), hurt/comfort, idiots in love, possible Navy inaccuracies, (please let me know if you'd like me to add anything else)

Word Count: 4.7K Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler

This is as good a place to die as any, she thinks.

Laying in the snow she watches the sun rise inch by inch over the tree line. The sky bathed in a soft orange glow that warms her skin for what she can only assume will be the last time. He’ll hate her for leaving him without saying goodbye, but her voice has already left her and her arms are too weak to shake him from his slumber.

In the distance the cotton fluff clouds rest on the peaks of the mountains; tremendous contrast so perfectly balanced. She feels each of Hangman's breaths expanding the firm plane of his chest as her breathing grows slower. Two days ago she never would have imagined dying in the arms of Lt. Jake “Hangman” Seresin.

---

They had taken off at the barest crack of dawn breaking. 0600 hours. It was supposed to be a simple recon mission. Take off from the carrier. Fly over. Survey the valley below—report anomalies. Continue the flight path, and land at a nearby ally airbase. Refuel. Return to the carrier. They'd been tasked with flying similar paths for the last two weeks as part of a larger peacekeeping and security effort. As far as deployments go, they were lucky to have been selected to be the joint task force; and more fortunate to not be engaged in active combat.

Though Hangman would loathe to admit it with his two confirmed air combat kills, she knows herself that no pilot wants to be under enemy fire or in a position to take a life; it's an unfortunate consequence and frequent reality of the job.

In the time they’ve known each other, she’s heard Jake speak frequently about his mother and her homemade pie waiting for him in Texas. He tells stories about the boys he used to play football with in high school, and family reunions with little nieces and nephews running about barefoot. She’s heard him making plans to buy a home and settle down. He dreams of a future. Anyone paying attention knows that beneath the outwardly cocky exterior, and adrenaline rushes, he's afraid of dying.

It wasn't enemy fire that took them down two days ago, but rather sudden major malfunctions that left them without any navigation system, defective coms, and an aircraft almost completely unresponsive to pilot commands. Their saving grace had been Hangman's quick thinking to point them towards a clearing in the tree line, and her decision to dump their fuel as they descended rapidly toward the ground. Flying too low to eject safely they braced themselves for impact, an apology for something he could not have stopped on Jake's lips.

The sounds of alarms and rapid beeping tones woke them. The smell of burning jet fuel startled them into action again. Jake's head stayed lulled forward his eyes slipping shut again before his limbs burst into action with a level of urgency that forced her to react with equal fervour. She watched wide-eyed as Hangman pushed open the canopy pulling himself up and out of his seat, rolling sideways out the opening. Only in watching his exit did she notice the awkward angle the jet had landed at. The nose crumpled by the force of the impact, their wings clipped and lost somewhere in the trees or across the clearing; the body had slid half on its side, a couple hundred feet through revealing mud beneath and leaving a wake of burning grass melting through the powder white snow. A sharp pain threatened to make her lose her breakfast as she clambered from her seat and the tangle of buckles and straps that had saved her life. She tumbled with purpose but little grace out into the frozen valley.

“Alright?” Hangman asked standing with his back straight as she doubled over trying hard to catch her breath. She nodded but he didn't make any effort to speak or move giving her a moment to collect herself.

Sucking in the ice-cold air she ignored the searing pain tearing through her rib cage. Her attention drifted from herself back to Jake who swayed on his feet, the soft crunch of snow sounding beneath his feet as he tried to find a place to stand steady. Watching him pale she only grew more convinced Jake was concussed.

“Are you alright?” She asked.

“Dizzy for sure”.

“Well, we'll thank our lucky stars we crashed in allied territory. Once we find shelter, I'll run a concussion protocol for you.”

Their non-functioning radios had left them no way to communicate their mayday calls. They had tried in vain to transmit their approximate coordinates as their headsets filled with static. Their navigation system ran haywire, the coordinates too impossible to be accurate in any case.

His brows furrowed as he turned to survey their crash sight. His usually bright smile had been pulled into a firm line that confirmed to her they'd be stranded for a while.

A gust of wind reminded them of how exposed they were in the clearing. While enemy scouts wouldn't be an issue, the potential for hypothermia would be.

“Map. Compass. Let's grab the chutes from the seats as well,” she suggested. Hangman was uncharacteristically quiet in his agreement, giving her a nod of affirmation as they collected what they could from the jet.

The sun was still high in the sky above them providing decent light though filtered through bare branches and evergreen limbs. Somewhat guarded from the biting wind they allowed themselves to settle for a moment hoping to find their bearings and build a solid plan for their survival.

Before they began to plummet they had been about a quarter of an hour's flight from the air base on the other side of the valley. Plotting their estimated crash site on the paper map they found themselves nearly 250 miles away from their destination, walking sun up to sun down would still mean a 2-and-a-half day walk.

“Look alive sunshine,” she teased as Jake's eyes began to droop. He'd let out a laugh his smile surprisingly bright as he tilted his head back to look at her. “You're so bossy,” he complained.

“I'm about to get bossier, I've got to make sure you don't have a concussion”.

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted.

“Don't sass me Seresin,” she warned, though she tried to keep the tone playful.

For years they'd played this game; pushing each other's buttons skirting around the edges of flirtation and toeing the line of verbal bullying. Ribbing him was how she had learned to be affectionate towards him. Giving him a hard time made him flustered, or it made him laugh, and either reaction was a well-welcomed sight that had left a fluttering in her chest. The lighthearted back and forth they'd learned to communicate through made it easier to ignore the sidelong glances, and yearning that had begun to take shape beneath the surface.

“Alright,” she sighed, pulling the tiny flashlight out of her belt, “eyes on me”.

“They usually are,” he smirked.

With the light, she checked his eyes and got promising results: no abnormal dilation. Both pupils were even and responsive to light. “Today's date?” She asked him.

“February twelfth”.

“Your date of birth?”

“October twenty-first. Nineteen ninety”.

“Any headache, nausea, persistent dizziness?”

He responded no to all the symptoms and she allowed some relief to fill her knowing the initial symptoms had dissipated and not worsened. Finally, she held one finger up waiting for his eyes to focus. “Follow me,” she said her hand moving to the left, his eyes followed.

“I'll follow you anywhere,” he said as her hand moved to the right.

“Don't flirt with me, Hangman”.

“Wouldn't it be stranger if I didn't? I’m just proving I’m not concussed”. His point was somewhat valid but she didn't let him know she thought so, continuing her evaluation in silence.

He's like this with everyone. She'd been telling herself the same thing for years. You're not special. He'll flirt with anyone. A painful truth that's helped her ignore his beautiful green eyes and warm countenance.

---

Laying on her back in the snow drawing her last breaths now she wishes she could see those eyes one more time as her vision begins to blur. The blue sky swirls into the emerald pines, the colours lightened by the soft sunlight. The colours like sea glass make her think of him and tears begin to gather behind her eyes. “I'm sorry,” she wants to say but only a pathetic whimper leaves her. She wonders if she would have been kinder to him if she had known she was going to die. Would she have been more honest with her feelings? Or pushed them down deeper in some foolish attempt to protect him? The sun continues to rise and she knows he will wake soon. Selfishly, she hopes she’s drifted off before then, unwilling to see him hurting on her behalf.

---

“Not concussed, but still a pain in my ass,” she had teased him, pushing his hair off his forehead, double-checking for any wounds. He took her words as permission to keep moving. Each of them threw a parachute pack over their shoulders and continued their walk northeast through the woods.

By 1900 hours the sun had begun to dip beneath the horizon, and the sky above turned a deep blue dotted by tiny spangling stars. Breathtaking and brilliant it had been easy to forget, just for a moment, where they were. She slung the chute of her shoulders towards the ground hissing at the movement. She hadn't had the time to check herself over. Best case her ribs were bruised, at worst she'd find out they were broken, and there would be nothing to help her until they had access to a medical bay anyway.

“Are you sure you're okay, Angel?” Hangman asked, using her call sign letting her know he meant business. He was not asking as a friend, he was asking as her teammate.

“Yes,” she lied. The pain was tolerable, only worsening with sharp or sudden movement. Nothing she couldn't handle, and nothing she would force Jake to worry about.

“Are you sure? I wouldn't be opposed to stripping you down to check for injuries,” his flirtations softened the conversation in an attempt to get her to tell him the truth.

“In your dreams,” she responded instead, moving along the base of a nearby tree in hopes of gathering some firewood and kindling.

“Quite frequently, actually,” the wink he shot her way repeats in her head even now piercing through the fourth wall of the masquerade they had built, an honest and boyish confirmation that their feelings for each other were something beyond friendship.

The plethora of fresh fallen snow meant finding water wasn't an issue of concern. Finding food would be more difficult and that first night under the stars they sat watching the flickering flames of the fire they had built, their empty stomachs rumbling with nothing to fill them.

Stretched between two trees, one of the parachutes they liberated from their wreck was used as a windscreen, protecting them from the cold. The second one lay draped around their shoulders as an extra layer.

Proximity wasn't an issue for them. They had spent enough time in cramped cockpits together to be familiar with the sounds of each other breathing. They had sat shoulder to shoulder in briefings enough time that she had memorized the smell of his cologne. And yet, when he put his arm around her to pull her closer in their makeshift cocoon her heart stuttered. How could his hands be so strong when her own wouldn't stop shaking? How could a simple touch warm her from the inside out? His fingers brushed along her side with no real pressure, but still prompted a gasp to escape her. Tears left glass trails on her cheeks in the firelight.

She tried to turn away from him, to feign sleep but he wouldn't have it. “Hey,” Jake caught her attention, waiting for her to look at him before he continued, “We're going to be okay”.

She believed him.

---

Everything about their uniforms has been painstakingly designed to keep them safe. 100% cotton undershirts and pants because the material won't melt to their skin in the event of a cockpit fire. But the surprisingly soft base layers have never stopped the blaze burning inside her. From the moment she laid eyes on Jake Seresin she knew he'd be the beginning and the end of everything. He pushed people away with his cocky attitude, somehow convinced that his refusal to be vulnerable would keep him safe from forming meaningful bonds; that he might get further ahead if he had fewer people to let down. But, he'd let her in. He'd let her break down his walls and climb over the fences he'd tried to put up. She'd held him when he got the news his father had died. On a ship thousands of miles from his home he'd told her about his brother dying when he was a child, and growing up in his shadow. He told her how badly he wanted to make his parents proud and how lonely he had made himself in the process. He'd kissed her forehead as they parted that night, and her world changed forever.

What had been an embarrassing schoolgirl crush she couldn’t shake had become a push-and-pull relationship neither of them could do without. She knew how to put him in his place when he took a joke too far. He knew how to goad her into showing everyone what she was capable of, refusing to let her slip into the background when he knew she deserved more.

Two sides of the same coin, they were joined a the hip; partners in every way but the romantic. The words “I love you,” had passed between them many times, but neither of them had been brave enough to say, “I’m in love with you”. She wishes she would have said it. Lying at death’s door she remembers being told that you often regret the things you haven’t done more than you regret the things you did. “I’m in love with you, Jake Seresin,” she whispers to the wind.

---

Their second day of walking was far more painful than the first. Jake had startled himself awake, his eyes wild as he fought to remember where it was they had ended up. The acceptance of their reality hadn't seemed to comfort him and he grew uncharacteristically quiet as they packed up their makeshift camp. The pine trees towering above them had been kind enough to shed some of their cones while they had lay sleeping in shifts. Though they hadn't offered many, they were able to harvest a handful of pine nuts between the two of them for breakfast. It was nowhere near a meal, but the snack had managed to quiet their angry stomachs for a few minutes.

The ache in her side had grown to become a constant agony. What had started as a negligible strain was now a torment that threatened to collapse her with each footfall. Despite the subzero temperatures, a sweat had broken out across her brow, and the heat spreading up the back of her neck left her wanting to strip off her cold weather jacket and flight suit.

“Have you ever had rabbit?” Jake asked around noon. His footsteps had slowed enough for her to catch up with him. His voice had startled her after all the silence.

“I can't say that I have,” she answered. A gunshot pulled her from her thoughts and she realized she hadn't ever answered out loud. Jake stood a few feet ahead of her, his service pistol in his hand. The world around her was spinning. The trees blurring together as a sudden wave of nausea filled her. She could hear her name being called; muffled and distorted. Jake. His face soon filled her line of vision.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” he told her, but her mind still struggled to put the pieces together. For a moment it felt like she was underwater, all her breath gone from her lungs and all she could feel was the scalding pain burning from the inside out. Momentarily she entertained the idea that it was her who had been shot until she spotted the rabbit lying lifeless in the snow.

“We need to eat,” Jake spoke again, “you're going quiet on me and I don't like that-- we’ll get some energy in you again before we keep moving”.

The very idea of eating anything threatened to leave her dry-heaving, but she took advantage of the moment to rest. He didn't mention her lack of assistance building a fire or preparing the rabbit, but she watched with incredible focus his hands moving with precision and surprising gentleness for the task at hand.

She can recall him telling her stories about his childhood, standing on step stools to reach the countertop in his mother's kitchen rolling out pie crusts and later on slicing apples. He once told her that it was his mother who had taught him patience and gratitude while they baked together; two traits he had neglected to exhibit far too often in his adult life.

She listened to him thank the rabbit for its life as he cut away pieces to feed to her. There was an unmistakable love in the way he moved, his eyes cast over his shoulder to check on her. Slowly, she realized that she was not doing a good job hiding her suffering. In a fleeting thought, she imagined Jake having to carry her lifeless body for the rest of their journey. In their line of work, it had never been considered morbid to have funeral plans from a young age. Flying with him for years she had learned to trust him implicitly, despite the call sign he'd earned and worked tirelessly to recover from she knew early on that he'd do right by her. Challenging authority, but always following the rules; complete and unwavering dedication to whatever task he had at hand; precision and perfection in the execution of his duties be it laundry or taking down a fighter jet midair. As her energy continued to leave her she took comfort in knowing her life would be in Hangman's hands.

“I'm not hungry,” she said to him.

“You need to eat,” he insisted again but didn't push any farther. With a longanimity he forgot he possessed, and a magnanimity he couldn't credit himself for carrying he cared for her; making the executive decision to make camp early as her seemingly catatonic state worsened. She managed to chew and swallow bites of the gamey meat, her body grateful for the nutrition.

Night fell too soon after and the sound of the wind in the trees and the rustle of creatures that may have been lurking left both of them far more on edge than they had been the night before.

“Scoot closer,” she whispered to him, and he complied without complaint. Neither of them was warm, but their proximity to the fire helped them imagine they could be. His shoulder bumped hers and she leaned her head against him. “Put your arm around me?” She asked. He complied again this time with more hesitation.

“You know if you wanted to snuggle with me you could've just said so,” he teased though she could tell his heart wasn't in it.

“I'm scared,” she confessed, a half-truth. She was terrified, feeling her heart rate starting to slow by the minute, her vision slipping in and out of focus.

“We're going to make it home,” he whispered, both arms wrapped around her now, his lips pressed to her hairline. Tears blurred in her eyes and she gave up fighting back a sob, body shaking and heartbreaking. “I won't let anything happen to you,” he said so sincerely. She cried harder knowing she had already broken that promise for him.

She had realized she'd lost feeling in her fingers and toes when he'd begun to trace shapes on her back. Her digits buzzed with needles and pins and her limbs had began to feel heavy. Bile rose in her throat choking her as she scrambled to get her distance before dinner made a reappearance. Jake didn't make a fuss, or make his worry known, but she could tell that her perturbation had begun to seep beneath his calm, cool, mien. His hand shook as he rubbed her back hoping her coughing fit might free her off the anxiety and discomfort that had overtaken her.

She can remember almost every time Jake Seresin has touched her. The memories float suspended in golden warmth, kept safe from the things theyve done, and the things they’ve seen. She holds those moments of fleeting, passing goodness, near to her heart. The smallest reminders that Hangman has a heart; and it’s full of love to give, and on some occasions, she has allowed herself to believe she could be worthy of that love.��

He used to sit beside her in the mess hall no matter how many seats were available; his broad shoulders bumping her own, his elbow knocking at her ribs, their hands brushing as he slid his mashed potatoes onto her plate and she slid her green beans onto his. Silent and symbiotic in their bond, determined to look out for one another.

The first New Year's Eve they were able to spend together off base was spent with as many friends as possible and too much liquor to handle. Neither of them got a midnight kiss because she was spilling her guts in the alleyway behind the bar, Jake by her side saying “I told you not to do shots after drinking a glass of wine”. But his satisfied smirk was overshadowed by the genuine concern in his eyes and the steady warm hand he'd placed on her back. “There you go, you'll feel better once you get it all out”. He was drunk himself, his words half slurred but no less encouraging. She had thought then that he was seeing her at her worst. She knows now that she was wrong.

By some miracle they had been deployed together more often than not. At first it was pure coincidence, but over time it became clear that together they were a dynamic duo with a combined force and efficiency they're commanding officers could not deny, and were often interested in capitalizing on. They had become two halves of a whole, a packaged pair anyone would be disinclined to separate. Still, they had not been permitted to bunk together, and neither of them had ever been interested in breaking the rules of the institution so they never pushed it. But on nights when the creaks and groans of the 900,000 pound ship kept her awake, and the rocking of the waves around them was too much to ignore she knew she'd be able to find him lurking around the corridors as well.

“I couldn't sleep,” she'd say. “Me neither,” he'd respond. Sometimes, when the world felt too heavy on his shoulders and they'd been away from home for too long they'd find their way to the floor together, his back pressed to hers, their arms circling their knees, and he'd sync his breathing to hers convincing himself that so long as she was their he had some piece of his real life with him. A part of Jake Seresin that wasn't just a pawn in battles bigger than him, he was a man with thoughts and feelings, and dreams outside of his role worth achieving.

---

This is as good a place to die as any, she thinks.

The parachute that isn't being used to block the wind is still draped over the two of them and she hopes it keeps Jake warm until he wakes. His walk to the base will take him longer now dragging her weight behind him, he'll need his sleep.

She lets the sound of the wind lull her and she finds that she's not afraid anymore. Just sad; angry even; but not afraid. Her pain is excruciating, and she’s honestly welcoming the relief of a permanent slumber. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. The wind gusts come steadily, growing louder and ever closer.

Jake stirs beneath her, sitting up her head falling to his lap. “Well would you look at that! No more walking for us,” he grins. Her eyes have shut but she can hear it in his voice, the boy like wonder bursting the surface. “Angel, wake up,” he shakes her shoulder. The joy that had filled him moments ago has been replaced with a more serious tone, “they sent a chopper for us, honey,” he says, shaking her again, “you've gotta get up,” he pleads with her, but she cannot answer him. His hand is surprisingly warm on the side of her face, and the world goes dark and silent.

Death is softer than she expected. It's dark still, but her head is resting on something plush, and there's a feel of woven fabric at her fingertips, it reminds her of the blanket Jake's mom had sent to her last Christmas. Her back and her legs feel stiff and she makes no attempt to move them uninterested in exploring this darken world she's found herself in. Her ribs ache but far less than they did back in the snow, the pinch she feels with each breath is like an echoed sound, a pallid reminder of her last moments.

There's a humming; a mellifluous tune. It drifts in and out, bookended by murmuring she cannot decipher. Come back to me. The words become clear. Angel. Guilt fills her, petulant and helpless as emotion overwhelms her. She wants to move towards the voice, to apologize for leaving but she's not sure she can. I need you honey.

Jake. Oh, it's so clear now. Jake.

“Hey, hey, you're okay,” Jake's hands brace her shoulder, and just above her knee willing her to stop flailing her panicked limbs. Her eyes shoot open to meet his; golden green and brimming with tears she wishes she had the strength to stop. The insistent beeping that had filled the room quiets as she relaxes back into the pillows.

The Navy infirmary isn't anything fancy, but it's far more comfortable than the nights she spent with her back up against the bark of a tree. She has so many questions but they fade out of her mind as quickly as they spark in. Blips of clarity overriden by the need to speak to Jake who is looking at her with more wonder than she's even seen. The man has seen the world from 40,000 feet but he's looking at her like she hung his stars in the sky.

“Jake,” she manages.

“Yeah, Angel”.

Her throat feels like sandpaper, her voice scratchy and raw with disuse, but she fights through it,

“I'm in love with you,” she says, sucking in a breath that makes her cough. Her lungs feel like they're on fire and she works desperately to inhale and exhale as the ache in her side is reawaken.

Jake offers her water that manages to swallow down, and when she takes a few shaky breaths without wincing, he sets the paper cup aside.

She gives him a gentle nod, refusing to meet his gaze. He doesn't let it slide, his forefinger tilting her chin up so she can't hide from him. She envies his confidence, his ability to simplify a scenario.

“I'm in love with you,” he tells her too.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun hangman #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman fic #jake seresin fic

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rinsoap · 7 months ago

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SONGS THEY LOVE TO MAKE OUT TO!

✿²˖ ࣪ ➣ includes : suna rintaro. iwaizumi hajime. atsumu miya.

note : me after incorporating my music hyperfixation into all my works. also can u tell im so obsessed with all of these men's arms n hands.

SUNA RINTARO: REDBONE BY CHILDISH GAMBINO

makeouts with suna are always distracting you. this night was no different except for the fact that you're on the floor. well, you're sittting on the rug beside his bed that's pushed up to the wall. he's sitting against it, and you're in his lap facing him. you're on your phone, not paying attention to the boy directly in front of you, too busy trying to instruct one of your project partners on how to use microsoft. suna is not usually jealous. who cares if someone's into you? it's not like they have a chance. you never entertain them anyways. he just misses you. he was out of the city for a week for an away game, and he's hardly kissed you since he left. he's had awaken, my love! by childish gambino playing for a while now, head lolling back on the bed, bored out of his mind. "babyyyy" he hums in complaint after you giggle at your phone. "hold on rin, i'm almost done... god these people are so stupid, i swear i'm literally carrying this project" you roll your eyes as your fingers fly across the screen, the tapping filling the silence until your boyfriend groans and brings his head up to look at your pretty face. the intro of redbone kicks in, and his mind starts racing, thinking about all the times he's kissed your lips to this song. his hand snakes around your waist, and you feel his thumb start tracing hearts into your skin. "you're too pretty to be worrying about school," suna pouts, "you should pay attention to... other things..." his suspicious trail off causing your eyes to flick to his face, but before you could find his eye contact, he was planting kisses onto your neck. "rin," you whine, winding up to tell him off, but he makes his way up to your jaw, grinning against your cheek when you catch his eye. "rin i can't..." you sigh, incredibly receptive to his touch despite your words, dropping your phone still open on your messages to wrap your arms around his shoulders. "you just look so beautiful, can’t stop myself," he mumbles before pressing his lips against yours, hands making their way to hold the dip between your jaw and neck. you lean into his desperate kiss, and when your fingers carress the nape of his neck, you feel him smile. "missed you so much baby"

IWAIZUMI HAJIME: NIGHTS BY FRANK OCEAN

makeouts with iwaizumi always start out polite. it's always just one kiss, something casual, until he starts getting needier. you had dragged your boyfriend into another late afternoon nap, him shirtless, and you wearing one of his faded graphic t-shirts. you're woken by the sunlight beaming through iwaizumi's ineffective blinds. his arm is lazily holding you and he's laying on his stomach, you're on your back. you place your hand on his forearm and hum along to the end of hold on by the internet. you had forgotten you put on a playlist. you hear iwaizumi grunt and you giggle. "you awake finally?" he teases, turning on his side to face you and you do the same. "take a guess, genius" you quip back and he tsks. he doesn't say anything though, chest to chest and noses touching, he just stares into your eyes. sometimes he wakes up with you next to him and he is baffled at how he managed to pull someone as gorgeous as you. his eyes only break from yours to flick to your lips, and you can tell he's trying to be discreet by the way they immediately dart back. the song changes, and you both smile at each other knowingly. you were about to exclaim that he should just kiss you, but he interrupts that thought to oblige, and your face goes hot. his kisses still gave you butterflies despite being with him for so long. you kiss him back, matching the way he deepens it, hands over your hips as he pulls you onto him. you gasp at the sudden nature of it, and he grins against your mouth. you break free and move your hands from the sides of his face to his bare chest, but he pulls you closer to kiss up your shoulder and your collarbones and ultimately brings you back to kiss him. as the beat switches, his strong arms hold you tighter, closing whatever distance the two of you might have had before. he groans in your mouth when your hands tangle in his hair, tugging on it slightly when he quietly mumbles, "i love you". he could kiss you all day if he could, and he acts like it.

MIYA ATSUMU: ONE NIGHT ONLY BY SONDER

makeouts with atsumu are intense and frequent. he loves pda, he's the type of guy to use any excuse to show off his girl, and is that such a crime?! he needs to stop kissing you at parties though, i fear you've become that couple. you were both a little tipsy, and when atsumu drinks, he can't take his hands off of you. so when he started kissing on your neck, you rushed him to the bathroom to avert everyone's eyes from the pda. you shut the door behind you, and atsumu quickly takes the opportunity to close the distance between you two until he had you pressed against the door. "oh, hey," you say with a sarcastic smirk that he matches. "hi baby," he bites his lip, looking you up and down and then back to your eyes, "you look so fucking good... i couldn't stop looking at ya, princess" he knows he's not subtle. your heart beats to the bass of the song playing through the door as he cups your cheeks in his big hands. he leans in to kiss you fervently, leaving you breathless and almost as needy as him. his hands thread through your hair and yours do the same as he nips at your lips playfully. you giggle and he pulls back just enough to speak, resting his forehead on yours. "you're so perfect" is all he says before he starts peppering you face and neck with soft kisses, working his way up back to your lips to capture you in a kiss much more intense comparatively. his hands roam your back, and you melt into his touch as the two of you intertwine. the world fades away, it's just you and him and the song. "hey are y'all done in there or what?" osamu knocks irritably, gladly interrupting you much to both of your displeasure. you laugh, and atsumu rolls his eyes. "yeah yeah whatever," he calls out, planting one last kiss on your cheek before you drag him out of the bathroom, "this will be continued later, promise you baby" he's so corny

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dollfacefantasy · 4 months ago

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kinktober day 7 - mutual masturbation logan howlett x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, mutual masturbation, fingering, handjobs

You're not sure how what was supposed to be an innocent movie night led to this. All you wanted to do was curl up after a long week and watch some scary movies with your boyfriend. Instead, you've ended up with his fingers resting knuckle-deep in your cunt, and your hand stroking his leaking cock.

"Fuck..." you whimper, looking up into Logan's eyes as your lip puffs out into a pout. His fingertips graze just where you like to be touched with every movement. The heel of his palm grinds on your clit from the motions.

He leans down and steals the sound from your mouth with a kiss, melting that huffy look into something much more compliant.

"Gotta be quiet, baby. Don't want anyone knocking on your door to investigate strange noises," he teases and pulls at your bottom lip with his teeth.

Your instinct is to whine again, but it is the middle of the night. Even in the privacy of your own room, you really don't want anyone else in the nearby rooms of the mansion hearing the effect Logan has on you in moments like these.

In an attempt to fight back, you give his cock a tight squeeze before pumping up and down faster. He hisses softly and shoots you a look.

"Funny," he says.

The movie you'd been watching continues to play in the background even though neither of you were paying attention to it at this point. Your fist keeps sliding back and forth. You angle your head above it to spit down onto his shaft, making your movements more fluid.

A groan rumbles in his chest. He pulls you closer with the arm around your body, nestling the two of you further into the collection of pillows at the top of your bed. His lips move in again, smashing on yours as a way to keep himself quiet this time. The entire time, his fingers continue to curl inside you and gently slide between your walls. It's unfair how easy this version of multitasking is for him.

Pulling away, breathless from the kiss, you look down and watch. The outline of his hand presses against your panties and then recedes rhythmically. Next to it, his cock stands angry red and dripping from your hand's treatment of it.

"Jesus, you're so wet," he grunts. His voice sounds as strained as it does when he's buried inside you for real. It's accompanied by the wet sloshing noises of your hole being filled.

Beneath his hand, the seat of your panties was soaked through with slick. You leak around his fingers like a broken faucet, getting his entire palm glistening with your need for him.

"You gonna cum on my fingers, babydoll?" he murmurs in your ear, "Gonna get all nice and tight and make me wish I had my cock inside you instead?"

You gasp out a 'yes' before throwing your head back and letting your body seize up. He smirks at you and keeps working his fingers within. You try to keep your hand going as best you can, but your movements become erratic under the waves of pleasure he's bringing you.

Luckily for you both, the sight of your body squirming for him and the sound of your voice cracking into whines is enough to spur his arousal into a release. His high doesn't crash into him as hard as yours does to you, but he lets out a quiet moan and lets his hips thrust up into your hand.

You watch his abs twitch as ropes of cum fly onto them. It pools on his stomach, dribbling down over his happy trail onto the skin of his pelvis. His eyes flutter and a deep sigh leaves him.

The both of you prolong the mutual ecstasy for as long as you can. You start to come down first. When he joins you in the plateau of the afterglow, you unfurl your fingers from around his length. He pulls his digits from your pussy and snakes his hand free of your panties.

You can see the evidence of your arousal glimmering with the reflection of the light from the television. It would be embarrassing if you didn't know how hot Logan found it. He does what he does every time this happens - brings his fingers to his lips and slots them inside, licks them clean of your nectar, and then brings them back out for you to suck on and get a taste.

After watching you suck on his digits a few times, he pulls them back out and goes in for one more kiss.

"Much more interesting than the movie, huh?" he mutters.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #wolverine imagine #marvel x reader #marvel smut #ch: logan howlett 💌

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hellfirenacht · 4 months ago

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Anomaly Part 3

Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.

Tags: Anxious-ish!Reader but not shy, one sided pining, no use of y/n, fem!reader, one sided enemies to lovers, fem!reader

2.4k Words

Part 1, Part 2, Master List

Miles Cooper was still at school the following week, which meant that he was given no consequences for what had happened to you or for blaming Eddie.

Eddie couldn’t even say he was surprised by this point. If Eddie really had been the one to trip you up, he was sure he’d get suspended or even expelled. It was so close to the end of the year and he could feel that Higgins was looking for any reason to keep him from walking across that stage to get his diploma.

You hadn’t shown up on Monday. Not that it mattered to Eddie either way, you two didn’t even know each other. But you had cleared his name. That was the thought that kept buzzing around his brain like a mosquito that he just couldn’t swat. Despite the glares and the snide remarks, you had gone out of your way to make sure that he didn’t get in trouble for something he didn’t do, which is more than what he could say for a lot of people at this school.

He had to give you credit for that at least. Not many people outside of his small friend circle would stick up for him like that.

With work and band practice, it was easy to forget about you until Wednesday when you showed up to English class with a thick white cast around your wrist and arm. Shit, your fall really had done a number on you. You were struggling with juggling your books and they fell off your desk with a clatter, and you thanked the girl next to you for helping you pick them up.

Eddie would like to think he was above eavesdropping and gossip, but he’d be wrong.

“What happened?” The girl- Sarah- asked.

“I face planted on the bleachers at the pep rally.” you said, taking your seat again. “One minute I was trying to get down, and the next I’m getting elbowed and my arm hurt.”

“I heard someone pushed you”

Eddie heard that emphasis on someone and gripped his pencil, hearing the subtle sound of wood splintering against his thumb. This was not the time to make a scene.

“No one pushed me. Miles elbowed me and I fell.” you said firmly.

You were still defending him, Eddie wasn’t sure how to feel.

“If you’re gonna spread rumors, could you do me a favor and make it sound more interesting?” You continued, “Like, start telling people that I dived off the bleachers to distract everyone that Miles shit himself.”

Eddie snorted loudly before he could stop himself. He slammed his hand pencil down on the table and covered his mouth. Dammit, why did you have to be funny?

Sarah laughed, much less obnoxiously and agreed before asking to sign your cast. You must be covered in signatures now, as you seemed to be friends with everyone.

Everyone except him.

Not that it mattered.

It was nice and all that you saved him from getting in trouble, but it’s not like you two were ever going to be friends, no matter how funny you were.

Class started and Eddie spent the rest of class doodling and barely paying attention to the teacher. This was usually how his school days went. Yeah, he had been trying harder in the past two years to graduate and pass his classes but some days his brain just refused to focus on anything important.

The bell rang and Eddie took his sweet time getting his things together. Next period was his favorite- lunch.

“Shit.” He heard you mumble as you tried to wrangle your books with one arm. He knew there was a rule about not being allowed to carry around a backpack but, shit, Eddie would have thought you’d get some help. Shouldn’t one of those many signatures be offering to carry your books?

Obviously not, as you finally managed to tuck your notebook under your arm. You looked flustered, and hot in the face. Your brows were furrowed in concentration and you finally let out a loud groan as your papers went flying everywhere as students for the next class started coming in.

It was pathetic, and Eddie couldn’t exactly leave you stranded. You cleared his name, so at least he could try and help you out right now. Maybe he’d even figure out what your problem with him was.

“Here.” Eddie said and grabbed the papers closest to him and picked up your binder before you could stop him.

Normally when Eddie looked at you, you’d turn your nose up at him and look away. This time, he found himself giving you direct eye contact. Your eyes were wide with surprise that he had stepped in to help, followed by more frustration.

“Thanks.” you said shortly.

“Need help getting to the lunch room?” Eddie asked. He’d wait for you to say no, to tell him to get out of your face, and he can walk away with a clear conscience that at least he tried.

You were staring at him as if he were some sort of alien who had just asked you why the sky wasn’t orange. Yeah ok, he could take the hint.

“Yes.”

The word sounded choked out, as if the single syllable was a struggle to say. But you had said it, and Eddie was a man of his word, even though he hadn’t promised you anything.

Eddie stacked your notebook and binder on top of his. You were still staring at him as if you couldn’t believe he was talking to you. Eddie couldn’t really believe it himself.

He’d do this small favor for you as a thanks, and then you two could go back to ignoring each other.

“Lead the way.” He said, offering up his best impression of his dad’s smile. If he was lucky (which Eddie never was) then maybe some of his dad’s Munson Magic might rub off on him enough so that you’d at least relax a little.

You only nodded and led him out of the classroom.

You didn’t like the cast and it’s off-putting stark white bandages. You wanted to choose a different color- maybe red or black or even that weird obnoxious toxic green that was offered to you. But your mom decided that white would be better because it would make it easier to sign, so white it was.

Your parents at least took pity on you Monday, letting you stay home to wallow in embarrassment that you had broken your wrist and fractured your arm in front of all of your classmates. Tuesday they released you back to school, but you had instead skipped getting on the bus (because you could not drive one-handed) and played hooky at the local library. It’s not like anyone would care that someone your age was skipping school.

Wednesday came, and you forced yourself onto the bus, the first time you had used it since moving to Hawkins. The ride was bumpy and long, and your walkman ran out of batteries halfway to school.

It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. A few people came up and signed your cast, some asking what happened. You just told them the same thing, that Miles elbowed you and you fell. It wasn’t as exciting as the idea of the school Freak attacking you, but you weren’t about to get Eddie involved in something that he had nothing to do with. You were just going to ignore the fact that Eddie had been the reason you were heading in that direction anyway.

English class rolled around, and you spent most of it poking the inside of your cast with your pencil, trying to scratch an itch that just wouldn’t go away. It was bad enough that you had fucked up your dominant arm, but this was actually Hell.

When the bell rang, everyone else seemed to be in a huge rush to get out of the classroom. Everyone but Eddie. Obviously. Because of course the one person you were trying to avoid was now slinking around you.

Your long weekend, you had done your best to try and not think about him. You could handle falling in front of everyone else in school, but with Eddie it was different. Your stomach twisted as you remembered how he had yelled as you fell next to him and how he had looked at you as you had ignored your stinging arm as you ran out of the gym to clear his name.

It was bad enough he had heard you make a poor joke out of context, you weren’t going to throw him under the bus either.

“Need help getting to the lunch room?”

Your face was already hot with the embarrassment of not being able to carry your own books. Your backpack had ripped the second you got off the bus, and you lost your math homework to a puddle. You hated that he was still here to begin with, was breaking your wrist already not enough pain and suffering?

You were staring at him. Fuck- dammit- shit say something back-

“Yes.”

The word almost got stuck in your throat. The only reason it came out was that as painful and embarrassing as this moment was, what Stacy would do to you if she found out you said no would be far worse.

Eddie dropped your books on top of his, and gave you a smile that looked so forced that you couldn’t stand to look at him. Was this being done just out of pity? You’d run for the hills if he wasn’t holding you binder hostage.

You led him through the hallway, and towards your locker. “I need to put some things up.” you said, and he followed you.

The hallway was already mostly clear, and so no one seemed to pay you much mind. You weren’t sure what the rumor mill would churn out with Eddie carrying your books, but did it even matter? Two more months and you’d be out of this school and none of these people would matter.

No one except the young man following behind you.

Eddie dutifully held your books as you put them away. The door to your locker stopped you from seeing his face, which seemed like the perfect time to take the foot out of your mouth that had been there since the pep rally.

“...I’m... uh... I’m sorry for what I said on Friday.” you started, pretending to rifle through a folder. “About you being in a cult. It was a stupid joke and I shouldn’t have said it.”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, and you felt your whole body tense up as you waited for him to say anything.

“Yeah we uh.. We aren’t big on sacrificing in Hellfire.” he said carefully. “Had to stop that with the club budget cuts.”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek and close your eyes tight to keep from laughing. You covered it up with a cough. “Yeah uh... sounds like that’d be a lot of paperwork.”

You took a slow and deep breath before closing your locker to look at him. He was smiling at you, a far less forced one than before. It was almost the same smile he gave his friends when he didn’t know you were looking.

It wasn’t much, but it didn’t stop the butterflies from exploding in your chest. You should see a doctor about that.

“Oh yeah, tons.” Eddie said. “And with all the letters we get about our club being associated with the Devil it was just a bureaucratic headache.”

I know that if I could just talk to him one then I’d be fine. You had told yourself that every single day since these pesky little feelings emerged. Maybe you had been right. The two of you made your way to the cafeteria.

“You’re just some nerds playing with dice.” you said, and realize that could be taken the wrong way. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve also... played board games.”

God you were acting like a total airhead. Board games? Really? You were acting like your brain was broken rather than your wrist.

You felt Eddie’s eyes on you, and saw how he also looked unsure about your answer. Whatever was going through his head, he brushed aside.

“I should also thank you for clearing my name.” he said, changing the subject. “You came running out of the gym and saved my ass.”

“I wasn’t going to let someone get in trouble just because I fell!” It was the most assured thing you had ever said to Eddie.

“Well, either way I’d say you’re my hero.” Eddie said. “I’m pretty sure if you hadn’t come running to my rescue I’d probably be expelled by now, and then who would be around to corrupt the youth of Hawkins?”

Hero. Eddie called you his hero. You felt your body buzzing with an energy that you were not in a place to use.

You two were in the cafeteria now, and you led Eddie over to where Stacy was sitting. Stacy, being the queen of subtlety that she was, was openly gawking at the sight of the two of you together.

She was giving you a look, and that look said that the second that Eddie was out of earshot you would be giving her a play by play of every single second of this interaction.

Eddie dropped your books on the table by Stacy.

“Hi, Eddie!” she said in a perky voice. You wanted to kick her, and shot her a warning look which she ignored. “Will you be dining with us today?”

You wanted to rip your hair out.

“As much as I would love to spend my lunch period with you two ladies, I’m afraid my freshmen wouldn’t survive out there in the wild without me.” Eddie gave a dramatic bow.

“Thank you. For helping me.” you said stiffly. Being on the receiving end of Eddie’s theatrics was making your brain blow a fuse.

Eddie gave you a nod and sauntered off to his usual table where he was immediately hounded by his friends for being seen with you. You wondered what they were thinking. Did you look weird next to Eddie? Were they judging you for not being part of their group?

“Stop drooling.” Stacy said. “Talk.”

I have never broken a bone and have done minimal googling.

Also these chapters are getting longer dammit. This is supposed to be the easy stuff to wright UGH. Also tell me if there's something you wanna see with this, because I'm winging it like I do with all my writing lol

Tag List: @eddiemunsonfuxks @kirsteng42 @strangereads @pedroschka @generoustrashpeach

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @cyanfairywren @crocworkships @tomtomslongdong @aphrogeneias

@ghcstpyre @totheforestandtheocean @stevekeeryswife @dreamyyy222222 @ajnerdess

@sp1dyb0y1008 @projectcampbell @emxxblog @thebadbatchfan

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@2spock @c14r3v1b3srs @yujyujj @saramelaniemoon @morganlolitta

@veemoon @mrsrdlw @eddieheart @bambibiest @mylovelycrazyworld

@sassidykassidy @cultish-corner @thedoubleexposurephotography @bambibiest @wheels-of-despair

#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

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starcharmed · 2 months ago

Text

— MEMOIRS OF THE PAST

summary: leaving a topic behind to go check up on sunday worked out well in your favor.

cw: romantic sunday pairing, past romantic dan heng pairing, after 2.7 quest but nothing mentioned, reader is an astral express member, caelus as trailblazer, fluff with an undertone of hurt/comfort | wc: 2k+ | my secret santa gift for @milksnake-tea <3 please read the note at the end

The Express seemed to hum during its “nighttime”. The record Caelus set earlier this morning looping idly, the tune stitched into your memory. Pom-Pom had stopped sweeping around ten minutes ago, Himeko retired to her cabin, Welt had long gone to his own as well for a much-needed rest.

Dan Heng insisted that he assisted March in “helping Caelus decorate his room”. Not that you would raise an eyebrow at him for doing so, those two were bound to have everything turned upside down and on the ceiling if left alone.

Which left only one Express member left, Sunday.

In your opinion, he could rival Dan Heng in measures of silence. At first you weren’t sure if he simply disliked you, but after being around him for more than a month you soon realized he was just like that.

It’s not as if he was cold, though.

The first week he was on the Express, he brought everyone delicacies that he presumed would match everyone’s taste.

He was correct in his judgement.

You weren’t even sure how he had figured out that you loved deep-fried flying sea anemone — a dish you tried on Xianzhou when in need of a small energizer after all that went down — nonetheless how many toppings you liked to have with it.

You remember messaging Caelus after receiving the gift, questioning if he had played any part in it. The only response you had received was a Wubbaboo emoji.

Very helpful.

That was besides the point, however.

Unlocking your phone with a click, you opened your messenger. You sent Dan Heng a simple “u up?” before scrolling through your contacts, bored and in need of someone to bother.

The second Dan Heng responded, you tapped on the notification.

You ; 10:45pm u up?

Dan Heng ; 10:47 pm You should be asleep.

Of course….

You ; 10:47pm so should you

You hit him with the Pom-Pom “Pay Attention”. That’ll get him.

Dan Heng ; 10:48pm … Sleep if you can. If not go see what Sunday is up to, he’s been silent for a long while.

Dan Heng ; 10:49pm March said she let him in her room to look at photos. Try looking there first.

You ; 10:49pm march is letting him go through her photos alone?? did see get possessed by some random heliobi somehow??

Dan Heng ; 10:49pm As far as I’m aware, no. He’s…processing a lot of things right now. Especially ones about his past. I know how that feels.

You bit down of your tongue harshly to stop the bitter laugh surfacing from your throat. You knew that. How could you not practically know everything about him considering you two were the only people on the Express besides Welt, Himeko, and Pom-Pom for a long time.

Maybe, maybe you were still irritated that Dan Heng had kept his secret from you after you both had “dated” off and on for a time of years. Leaving you to a not so fun surprise during your time in the Xianzhou Luofu. Iron filled your mouth and you let your facial muscles relax. Aeons…you needed to get a grip. What was done was done.

Your phone’s ding pulled you out from the mucky mess of the past.

Dan Heng ; 10:50pm Please check up on him.

Cringing, you hesitated before sending a Pom-Pom emoji. Huffing you placed your phone down beside yourself, rolling your head to the side to stare at your cabin’s door. Ah, what the hell. All of that didn’t matter right now. Sunday.

It didn’t take you that long to find him, in March’s cabin. Sitting cross-legged and shuffling through photos, door ajar just enough that you could peek in without disturbing him. You assumed March let him in, she’s bubbly yet still wary when need be.

After what went down Sunday certainly was a “need be”.

Rapping your knuckles against the door, you watched as a photo album slipped from his grasp before he caught it between his forefinger and thumb. The only sign of him being startled. Turning his head, Sunday’s posture relax imperceptibly.

“Sorry”, Slipping inside the cabin, you caught the door before it shut completely, “I should’ve been more noticeable, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t startle me.” He was quick to retort, sparing you a second glance before focusing back on the picture.

“Right.” Easing over you crouched beside Sunday, noting the lack of his gloves and coat – two clothing items he almost never went without. Peering over his shoulder, the image of a smiling Robin with an excited March taking a selfie with her filled your vision.

Oh.

You hesitantly sat down, “I remember when that was taken, y’know? On the feldspar.” The addition after everything happened in Penacony died down on your tongue, you shouldn’t mention that. “March was so excited to finally snap a photo with her. She wouldn’t stop rambling about it all day.”

Sunday’s right wing twitched as he placed the photo back in its slot within the laced album, “That sounds like Miss March.”

A silence creeped back over the both of you, the Express’ humming becoming more prominent within your mind. The nagging feeling that you made an incorrect choice prodding along with the melody running on repeat inside your head. Perhaps you should have made the decision to leave him be. Maybe letting Dan Heng know that he was looking through photos would’ve been enough.

His message became center stage in the circus of your mind. He’s processing a lot of things right now. That was understandable, and that was also the problem. You weren’t sure how to interact with Sunday without dragging him back in his murky mess of a past.

Like you did with yourself earlier.

But, then again, it’s not like you’ve done anything to make him feel outed, right? All you have to do is just leave and check back in with Dan Heng. And maybe you can catch a few hours of sleep. Just excuse yourself and head back to your cabin.

“Well…” Standing up you raised your arms over your head, stretching until you could start to feel a slight burn, “If you don’t need anything I guess I can-”

“Wait!”

Time seemed to freeze as your eyes went wide, both of Sunday’s wings twitched violently, and the Express seemed to stop humming as if his shout momentarily stunned it. Lowering the hand he had extended in suddenness, Sunday cleared his throat.

“I apologize. That was abrupt of me.” You swear you could see his eyes flickering between you and the wall, a moment of nervousness from Sunday caught for once in your eyes, “I was curious if you had any more stories about your travels to tell. I enjoy them.”

Feeling yourself becoming flustered, you started to ease back over to where he was sat. Perhaps your tendency to recall and talk about your journeys with the crew had gotten yourself a title as the second best storyteller within the crew.

You were never beating March for second.

Point still stands.

Although no one honestly asked you to retell stories unless no one else was present to do so. It might’ve been because you do so without honest flair or excess details that added a hint of humor to the mix. However, that could be your opinion of how you tell tales carrying over to your own thoughts.

It was like he handed you the book for popcorn reading.

Sunday seemed to slide over, making room for him. A considerate action that wasn’t new. He often didn’t want to get in the way, even when he wasn’t. You can recall when he stood to the side when Pom-Pom was sweeping in a completely different area than him, as if he was trying to blend into the wall.

Odd.

You reached for a photo in the album blindly, blinking thrice as you realized which one you had chosen. It was one from Xianzhou of all of your luck, one snapped in a hurry. It was on of you, Dan Heng, and Caelus in front of the Express. Caelus and you were mimicking Dan Heng’s newly-found horns (at the time) with your fingers before you all departed Xianzhou, March snapping the photo quickly before Dan Heng had started to stalk off the train.

That was a fun moment, despite all that had happened.

“That’s from the Xianzhou Luofu, correct?” Sunday questioned even though you could tell he already knew by the look within his eyes, “I’ve heard about what had happened there.”

You nodded. “It was a thing.”

A thing? Really?

“I never thought to ask what the story behind his form in these pictures was all about”, Sunday started, “Do you think you could tell me some about it?”

You take that previous statement back, he handed you a loaded gun.

The wince that slipped past your lips was sharp enough to sound like a whistle. With a click of your tongue, you started to put the photo back, “Well, I think you’d have to ask Dan Heng that yourself. He seems to have taken a liking to you so maybe you won’t get the sharp end of the sword.”

The statement was meant to be humorous, yet it came out as the complete opposite.

“It’s just something from his past. Everyone has one that nags them on this Express it seems, even someone as giddy as Caelus,” Closing the album, you reached for another one.

“Even you?”

“Unfortunately”, laughing you turned your face to look at him, “It’s not as deep as memory loss or being birthed from a literal nuke. Why? You surprised?”

“It’s hard to imagine you being chained down by memories and experiences of the past, you don’t let it seem to show.” You weren’t sure if you or Sunday had moved closer to one another.

In public you wanted to add, letting the two words melt on your tongue.

“Yeah, well”, Scooting closer, your right knee bumped his left, “It’s different for everyone.”

“That it is.”

The humming of the Express seemed to become muted, as if you had submerged underneath the water.

Sunday was so pretty.

His hair framed over his wings perfectly, his eye color blending into his attire beautifully. Little things that he seemed to make stand out wonderfully.

“Do you and Dan Heng have quarrel?” Lifting his head, Sunday’s eyes locked onto your own, “I do not want to trouble you by mentioning the past if both of you have some together.”

“No, it’s just a…little thing.”

Who started to lean in first?

“A little thing? You have a lot of those, hmm?” Sunday’s lips upturned slightly before they fell into their normal line, “Are you sure?” “You’re not getting in the way of anything, Sunny.” The nickname made his lips part, his honeyed breath being intook by your nostrils, “It’s fine, I swear.”

You could practically feel his hair against your face as he tried to close the distance, flinching back once his nose brushed against yours. Your fingers traced the outline of his jaw as he exhaled shakily, his lashes fluttering closed so delicately it was if a feather had fallen against the smooth water of his skin.

Smooth lips met yours as soon as your own eyes closed.

You felt his hand sneak up to the nape of your neck, a gasp pushing past your lips at the skin-on-skin contact. Sunday must’ve felt as he did something incorrect, pulling back before you brought up your other hand, keeping him within the moment of the kiss.

The muffled humming started to become clearer as you pulled back to open your eyes. Sunday’s wings had come around to fit around his face, a pink creeping past the edges.

And you let out a small laugh filled with nothing but joy.

Lowing his wings from his face, Sunday averted his gaze partially to the ground, “I suppose you should go back and try to sleep now.”

Although it was a statement, it carried more a questionable tone.

“Yeah”, you croaked out, nodding stiffly as you stood up. “You rest well if you can.” With a nod himself, Sunday started to study the pattern on another photo album. You practically speed-walked out of March’s cabin, heading to your own down the hall as your hand subconsciously raised to your lips.

Aeons were you glad you didn’t bring the past to the present with Dan Heng.

HI ILLU!! i hope you enjoy and this wasn't too ooc 😓😓 you've been such a huge inspiration and a major reason of why i'm so hooked on sunday as much as i am HAHAHA, i hope you have a very wonderful christmas and the rest of the year treats you right. thank you so much for being so wonderful and joyous to be around, i truly appreciate you 🫶🏽

#writings.#hvntersecretsanta #—stellaronhvnters.#sunday x reader #sunday x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you

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animestsstuff2 · 7 months ago

Text

Hawks loves to spoil you

Hawks x Femreader

Content warning: spoiling, intercourse, praise, adoration, fem-receiving, fluff, x-rated at the end.

Hawks love to spoil you. He loves to send you gifts, buy you everything and anything your pretty heart desires. He works so hard as a pro, works so many hours, so much overtime so of course with all this money, he’s so happy and lucky he has you to spend it on.

Ever since he met you he just can’t get enough of seeing your pretty smile when he comes home with something new, seeing your eyes light up and the giggles that erupt when he reveals the surprise. Your reaction feeds him. He loves the little cheek kisses especially.

He spends a lot of time now patrolling shopping centres, high end boutiques, flower shops, jewellers. The shop has something you like? He’s already there. He has a scheduled flower delivery every two weeks to your home to make sure you always have something to put in the vase he got you.

He is always buying you new swimwear, bikinis, one pieces so you always have something to wear in the rooftop pool of his apartment. He is always making sure you are getting the new cell-phone thats just cane out. He has to make sure his girlfriend can always contact him anywhere at anytime, what if you’re hungry? Or need a new dress.

Hawks instincts override any rational sense he has when he sees you. You’re his after all. He always ensures your hair appointments are booked, nails? Already in for an infill, skin? Your next facial is in a few weeks! He ensures you’re always taken care off in every way possible.

He knows just how much you love to go out to eat and whenever he has the time (makes the time) he has booked a table at the best rated restaurant. He knows what food you like and always ensures he gets the best seat. You’re too cold? Okay we’ll move. You wanna look out at the sky? That window seat looks perfect.

Nothing is too good for his girl.

Hawks spoils you every way he can. He always makes sure to drop by during his patrols, to preen and give you a kiss. He always makes sure to call you in the morning, even if you aren’t awake you can listen to his message. He calls before you sleep and when you’re eating dinner. He texts constantly and has almost hit a few buildings for not paying attention to his surroundings.

Hawks just loves to spoil you. How can he not? You’re just perfect to him. He loves your body, the way the new clothes hug you, show everything off just the right way. Hawks buys you new clothes constantly because he always seems to just rip them off the minute he gets the chance.

He doesn’t just spoil you with material things or through small doses like kissing and cuddling. No, Hawks loves to watch you squirm, loves making you cum not once, not twice, but as many times as his pretty girl can go from his tongue.

He spoils you so much, always makes sure your needs are met before he even thinks about his. You want him to eat you out? He’s already on his knees. You drank too much at dinner and want him to bend you over the table? He’s already paid the bill and is flying you home in his arms.

Hawks just loves ensuring you get your fix and as long as you get yours he gets his. He just can’t get enough. The way your tongue clashes with his so desperately. He loves hearing your whines as he sucks and bites at your nipple, flicking the other all the while you grind on his thigh.

“H-Hawks, c’mon” Your stutters and gibberish eggs him on more. The primal instincts within him just take over and he wants more.

“What? What’dya want?” He coos, smoothing a hand over your stomach as you lay on your back. His thumb lazily circling your clit as he stares up at you with hungry eyes.

All ya gotta do is ask and he’ll give you whatever you want.

“Mm- wanna, i-Wanna cum Keigo” His thumb picks up and his eyes narrow at the use if his name. It sends him wild as you come undone under him.

Hawks just loves everything about you. He loves making sure you are always happy, always fulfilled and always filled. He wants nothing more than to meet Every. Single. One. Of. Your. Needs.

“A-Ah, K-keigo, can’t i-“ you’re a stuttering mess under him, eyes screwed shut and mouth wide open. His hands on either side of your face, one of yours interlocked with his.

“C-Can’t what? C’mon Angel, don’t tell me I’ve spoiled you too much that you’ve forgotten your words” his teasing tone and snide comments go right to your core, tightening the knot that wants to desperately to come undone under him.

“W-wanna cum Keigo!” You squeal as he pushes in deeper, goes faster and hits harder. That extra sensitive spot in you getting abused by the man who just loves to spoil you so badly. His head dips low as he mashes his lips to yours in a sweaty kiss before pulling away and pressing wet kisses all over your face.

“Y-Yeah? You wanna cum? Ha-mmh. Okay Angel, c’mon n’ cum for me, wanna see my pretty girl get her fill” His voice was rough and even desperate as he felt his own release catch up with him.

You could only nod now putty in his hands as your walls squeezed him tight, milking him completely. A moan leaving your lips as you felt the hot ropes of cum spurt within you. Hawks stilled, a groan leaving his lips as he rested his forehead against yours.

Both panting and sweaty. He rolled off and to your side, wrapping you up in his arms as his wings came round to tickle your back and make you squirm slightly. He kissed your forehead.

“So, so spoilt. Thats the third time today” he laughed and you only whined into his chest. His hand coming to smooth over your hair.

“S’okay. I love spoiling my pretty girl”

#my hero academia #mha #takami keigo #mha hawks x reader #mha hawks #bnha hawks #hawks x reader #hawks #mha keigo takami #bnha keigo #mha takami keigo #keigo takami #keigo x reader #spoilt brat #minors dni

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f1cflcfic · 29 days ago

Text

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) Part IV

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (fem!y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy".

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons.

genre: social media au, angst, exes to lovers, happy ending

[A/N: woops, turns out that it works better to split the final bit of the story over two parts, so this means you've still got one part coming after this one! Also, please note that we spend some time in Las Vegas in this part, so there's vague mention of alcohol and drunk shenanigans]

part i part ii part iii

♥･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♥

November 15th, 2026

November 17th, 2026

November 18th, 2026

[Daily Mail excerpt]

Y/N L/N, Louis Tomlinson and more arrive for Las Vegas GP Opening Ceremony

Alle eyes are on Las Vegas this week, as the city plays host to one of the most exciting Grand Prix circuits this year. Vegas never fails to deliver an adrenalin rush, and this race promises to be one for the history books. Not just for what happens on track, but also outside of it. Tonight, many F1 fans and other entertainment lovers will head to the iconic the Sphere for the Opening Ceremony concert. With names like Kygo, Chappell Roan, and Y/N L/N headlining, it’ll surely be a treat.

Of course, many will be paying particular attention to Y/N L/N, who arrived this morning with fellow singer Louis Tomlinson in tow at the stadium. The two have been friends for a long time, and are frequently seen spending time together. However, L/N’s breakup with F1 driver Lando Norris has caused some fans to wonder if there’s perhaps more than meets the eye between the two. The rumours have only been fuelled by reports of the two leaving parties together earlier this month, as they were both said to have attended Travis Kelce’s birthday in October. Representatives for L/N refused to comment.

Her latest album The Prophecy is said to have been inspired largely by the downfall of her relationship with Norris – who has steered clear of commenting so far. Critics have described the decision to have L/N perform at a GP as “aggressive”, and “potentially damaging” for the sport’s credibility. “It casts a huge shadow over what could be a decisive race for points in both the Driver’s and Constructor’s championship,” one F1 fan remarked online. Another refuted such claims, stating that it’s “F1 who invited her there in the first place, and it’s literally just a concert before the actual racing begins – calm down”.

Whether or not the singers are expected to make an appearance in any of the paddocks later this week remains to be seen.

November 19th, 2026

November 20th, 2026

[Excerpt of Y/N's interview on Jimmy Kimmel Live!]

“So your new album has been out for about a week now, and it’s projected to be at #1 – there’s a bunch of people in the audience who have literally been about here for days, trying to get tickets to this taping," Jimmy motions to a couple of fans who immediately stand up and wave at Y/N. She gasps and blows a kiss to them, “days?! Oh my gosh, thank you!" Y/N turns to Jimmy, "is it okay if I ..." she trails off before just jumping out of her seat to hug the two fans.

When she returns, Jimmy motions for her to continue speaking. "I mean it’s absolutely amazing, especially knowing that it was such a personal project and to see that reach so many people is mindblowing. I wish I could spend more time with everyone, but it’s been super hectic as well, promoting this record.”

“How is that for your family – how are they handling all the fame and attention? They must not see you very much,” he asks.

“It can be difficult for sure. They’ve always been really supportive of me chasing my dreams, and whenever it’s possible I try to fly them out or go see them. But yeah, sometimes that’s just not an option, or I’m honestly too tired to be social. I was in the UK last week, flew in to LA yesterday evening from Vegas, New York before that, and then I’m on a red-eye tonight again out of here as well. I think now that I’ve been doing this for so long, I’ve realised that sometimes you just need to let life in and hit pause. You can’t just give and give and give to everything, all at once.”

Jimmy nods emphatically. “That’s very well said – I have a really hard time picturing you not working, to be honest. What does that even look like?”

“Ha, I really love to read. I usually am carrying at least two or three books with me, and then I’ll leave them behind somewhere in a second hand shop, or those little book nooks?”

“So someone somewhere could be holding a book that you’ve read in their hands, and they wouldn’t even know it?”

“Oh 100% that’s the case.”

“If you'd only doodled in them, they'd be worth thousands of dollars, probably." He turns back to the people in the crowd. "Would you buy a book that's been read by Y/N?" They nod, and he grins. "See?"

"Now do you also use those books for inspiration when you write, or is it all just your own experiences?”

“Yeah I’ve surely gotten inspired by other artforms in the past – I think probably subconsciously even for this record. That’s where the idea of a song around a prophecy came from, fantasy novels.”

He feigns contemplation, regarding Y/N carefully. “Have you been able to change it, that prophecy? I just want you to be happy, and you didn’t seem that happy on this record.”

Y/N lets out an awkward smile and shuffles in her seat. “I think that I’ll always have difficulty letting go of this need for control, but I’d say I’m definitely in a much better place than when I wrote it. I’m happy, I’ve got great people around me who love me, so can’t complain.”

November 21st, 2026

[The Independent excerpt]

BREAKING: LANDO NORRIS WINS LAS VEGAS GRAND PRIX!

The British driver was pictured celebrating with the McLaren team immediately after the race. Fellow papaya teammate Oscar Piastri had a disastrous start to the race, but managed phenomenal overtakes that eventually handed him P3. The double McLaren podium was completed by Lewis Hamilton, who edged out Max Verstappen with a crucial undercut earlier on in the race.

Speaking on the race, Norris said that he tried to treat it as any other and not think too much about defending his lead. “I’ve got my routines, that I’m trying to stick to as much as possible. Of course there’s some extra pressure, but we’ve got a strong car and I was feeling good about our lap times all week,” he shrugs. “Las Vegas is a great, but challenging track. I’m really pleased that we got the performance up enough to cash in on the pole position this time.”

Norris has now increased his lead in the WDC, which gives him a comfortable position moving into the final races of the season.

Many celebrities were stateside to attend the Grand Prix, but perhaps most contentious was the appearance of Y/N L/N, Norris’ ex-girlfriend. After opening the GP earlier this week on Wednesday, she had seemingly left Las Vegas to promote her album across the world. However, it seems watching her ex take the win was high enough a priority to fly straight back to Vegas on Saturday. The high profile singer used to be a frequent presence in F1, but stopped attending races as their relationship deteriorated.

Norris has been dodging questions about L/N all month, as her latest album is rumoured to have been inspired by their relationship. When asked whether or not it had affected his focus on the race after qualifying, Norris was quick to shut the reporter down. “It’s completely irrelevant to talk about that when I’m sitting in pole. If I decide to meet up with an old friend that happens to be in town, then that’s what I’ll do. Might even turn out to be a good luck charm, if anything.”

It seems to indicate the two have since reconciled, as they were spotted celebrating Norris’ win together with friends.

November 23, 2026

♥･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♥

You can read the previous parts by going here, part V is now available here)

♥ likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

taglist (open) : @charlesgirl16, @linnygirl09, @hoeforsirius, @motorsportloverf1, @sarx164, @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff, @formulaal, @tvdtw4ever @sadiemack9 @seonghwaexile

bonus: Tension song

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natsukicookies · 2 months ago

Text

The sinful allure

Summary

What you thought was the life of a side character turned out to be the life of the main character!

On your 18th birthday, you discover you're a succubus, and everything you thought you knew about yourself changes.

What’s more, your newfound powers don’t just come with supernatural abilities—they make you act... different. Flirty, confident, and completely unlike your usual shy self.

As if that wasn’t enough, the Batboys have somehow gotten tangled in your life. Balancing secrets, powers, and the chaos they bring? Yeah, happy birthday to you.

< masterlist > chap 1

Your eyes couldn’t leave your phone’s screen as they were locked onto the calendar app. You eyed a specific date with barely contained anticipation noticing that your birthday was approaching. In just a few days, you would turn 18. You were finally going to be an adult. You weren't sure if you felt excited or anxious-maybe a little of both.

With a sigh, you tried to focus back on the teacher's lecture, though your mind was elsewhere.

Turning 18 meant you'd finally be the same age as everyone else in your year.

The class ended, before you realise that, whatever the teacher spoke went in one ear and out the other, Fantastic! Now you were clueless about the chapter and would have to head to the library to study. "Just amazing," you muttered sarcastically under your breath.

As you left the classroom, someone bumped into you in a hurry. "Sorry!" the guy called out as he rushed past. You recognized him instantly-Tim Drake, one of Bruce Wayne's adopted sons, and one of the richest guys in Gotham.

He's one of the 3rd years, in the computer science major, same as you. The two of you even share some of your classes. And yet despite this.

You hadn't talked to him, or really to anyone at this college if you were to be honest. You were more of an introvert... wait, don’t introverts also have friends, but you didn't. A small laugh escaped you at the thought.

It wasn't always like this though,. You used to have friends, but then COVID happened, and all your social skills vanished. There wasn’t much to begin with, but it dropped to zero after that.

And iIf that wasn't bad enough, your mom got transferred to another city for her work, and guess what? It was Gotham City, the crime capital. Thankfully, the one year you'd spent here had been normal,well as normal as it could be in Gotham.

Being suddenly moved, in the middle of your last year of high school mind you, wasn't great. By the time you arrived everyone had their own friend groups, and you didn't fit into any of them. Your lack of social skills not helping either.

High school came and went, college started, but your chances of making friends? Nope, that still seemed like a pipe dream that would never happen.

You headed to your next class, passing the art club where you overheard people talking about Damian Wayne.

Another Wayne? You rolled your eyes at the name. You weren't really fond of the rich kids- most of them weren't great.

But then again, this was Gotham State University, and a lot of rich kids were here. To this day, you still had no idea how your mom managed to get you into this college. Did her job really pay that much? Definitely not.

Not caring much about it, you took a seat in an empty spot and watched the day fly by.

That was your norm- going to college, judge people,head home to do your course work and other stuff, then repeat, it was a cycle

It was seriously boring.

Guess that's the life of a side character for you.

Your attention shifted as you heard your name being called by your mom. "Are you still wearing that pendant?" Of course, that was the question she always asked. You knew her obsession with that pendant all too well. Whenever you were asked, she would respond with, "You must wear that pendant forever and never take it off, even for a second."

At this point, you were used to it, but still, her asking the same question every week for years kind of got on your nerves. "Yes, Mom, I am." You couldn't help but roll your eyes as you continued to watch TV.

Your mom did her usual routine, reminding you not to open the door for strangers (typical mom) and telling you what food was in the refrigerator before heading off to work.

Your mom was hardly home; like 90% of the time, she was at work. You didn't blame her for that now that you were older. She was a single mom working hard to support both of you.

Well, you tried not to blame her, at least. But there were still those moments.

Now the movie you were watching didn't seem fun anymore because of those thoughts. Cursing under your breath, you turned off the TV and headed to your room, passing by the mirror.

Stopping in your tracks and stepping back, you stared at your reflection. You looked normal; nothing seemed out of place, but you could have sworn you saw something whilst walking past it.

You shrugged it off and went to your room, chalking it up to your imagination.

The next few days went by and it's the night before your birthday. You're alone in the house, because of course your mom has work to take care of.

The next few days passed in a blur, and soon it was the night before your birthday. You were alone in the house, of course, since your mom had to work -again.

You were her only child, yet she didn't even have time for your 18th birthday. "Amazing mom," you muttered, trying to push down the bitterness creeping in. You scrolled aimlessly through your phone, distracting yourself from the thoughts swirling in your mind.

You watched the clock hit 11:48 and decided you might as well get that cupcake out and blow some candles- that's the only thing you can blow anyway.

As you moved around the kitchen, you kept catching glimpses of strange things out of the corner of your eye-like objects floating slightly before settling down. But every time you turned, everything seemed perfectly normal.

You shook your head, Maybe you were getting sleepy? You really hoped that was the case because you were not up for a ghost fight on your birthday.

By the time you set up the cupcake, the clock read 11:58. Just two more minutes, and you'd officially be 18- meaning you won't be able to use your 'sir I'm a minor' card but hey, you could at least legally drink wine now... if you could afford any.

You quickly lit up the candle and waited till the clock hit 12

"Happy birthday to me" you wished right on midnight as you closed your eyes to blow out the candle "I hope for a change this year"

Opening your eyes expecting to see the same old living room only to be met with a pair of bloody red eyes staring at you from High up.

A wave of fear washed over you making your body freeze. As you took in your surroundings, you were indeed not in your living room anymore. This wasn’t what you meant when you wished for a change this year...

"Worry not, my child," a deep voice echoed. you can't see its face or what it is, all you see is a shadow like figure on a throne which was placed on.... your eyes widened as you realized it was human skulls.

Oh you were a goner, you just knew it.

"You are not a goner" Did he- guessing by the voice- read your thoughts? You weren't even gonna question how, none of this was making sense so it's better to just not use the logical side of your brain and just roll with it.

"You must have a lot of questions," he spoke, amusement clear in his voice, as he rested his cheek on his hand.

You nodded, you definitely did.

"Good, let's add one more" he pointed at you, more specifically at your clothes.

"Huh?" You looked down and felt your face heat up. Your outfit wasn't the one you'd been wearing-it was something much more revealing, leaving you scrambling to cover yourself with your hands.

"What is going on?" you stammered, cheeks flushed.

The figure burst into laughter, seeming to enjoy your reaction a little too much. Finally, after calming down, he explained.

According to him, you were a succubus. A... what now?!

And hence the reason for things floating around in the air and you seeing stuff in the mirror.

Did it make sense? No, absolutely not. Was he gonna explain more? It didn't seem like it.

"So you’re saying.... that I have to have.... sex with.... guys now?" you asked, cutting to the question weighing on your mind

"Girls work too," he replied you could hear the smirk from his tone.

Your jaw dropped at his casual response. "Girls work too"? This was insane. You barely managed to talk to people as it was, and now you were expected to seduce them? The thought alone made you want to dig a hole and hide in it.

"So, let me get this straight," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "You're telling me that, overnight, I turned into... a succubus. And now I have to... you know... with people? Just to survive?"

The shadow figure leaned back in his throne, still smirking. "That's the short version, yes. But it's not quite as dire as you're imagining." He seemed amused, as if he could see the whirlwind of emotions playing out on your face. "You'll get used to it. Besides, a succubus's charm is automatic. Your appeal will increase naturally, even without you trying."

You blinked, taking a shaky breath. This was all too much. "But why me? Why now? I've gone my whole life without... without feeling like this."

"That's the way it works," he said simply. "Eighteen is the age when your powers awaken. And now that they have, you'll start to feel new urges and... influences."

Influences? That didn't sound reassuring.

"Here's how it works," he continued, clearly enjoying your unease. "When you're in your succubus form, your personality will shift to help you attract... let's say, energy sources. You won't even recognize yourself. And in your regular form, you'll be-"

"Shy and quiet?" you guessed dryly, crossing your arms over your revealing outfit. "Because that's how I normally am."

"Precisely," he replied, giving you an almost fatherly nod. "But in your other form, you'll become... well, let's call it 'confident.' All of this will be second nature soon enough."

This wasn't exactly reassuring, but you nodded, still struggling to process everything. Then a thought struck you, and you bit your lip. "So... if I need energy, does that mean I... you know... with anyone who-"

"Relax," he cut in smoothly. "You don't have to go that far if you're not comfortable with it. Succubi draw energy in a lot of ways: touch, presence, even just eye contact. What matters is connection. The deeper the connection, the stronger the energy you receive."

You let out a sigh of relief. That, at least, took some pressure off. But even then, none of this felt remotely possible for you.

"How will I even know when to... when to switch forms or get energy? I have no idea what I'm doing!"

The figure let out an amused chuckle "Ah, but that's the fun of it, isn't it? You'll learn as you go. The instincts are within you, even if they're dormant right now. When you need them, they'll surface."

He rose from his throne, the shadowy shape growing even larger as he seemed to loom over you. "And remember, child," he said, his voice suddenly serious. "You have a gift. Use it wisely-and sparingly. Too much charm, too quickly, could draw attention... and not the good kind."

With that final ominous warning, he snapped his fingers, and the room around you began to swirl and blur, as if reality itself was being pulled out from under your feet.

Before you could react, you found yourself back in your living room, alone and staring at the cupcake in front of you, the candle still flickering.

You blinked, heart racing. "Did that... really happen?"

Just then, your phone buzzed, snapping you back to reality. A birthday text from your mom.

You ignored the message and blew out the candle, the excitement from earlier completely drained. As you reached out to remove the candle, you froze. Your clothes... they hadn't changed back to normal.

So, that really did happen...

Heart pounding, you ran to the mirror. Standing in front of it, you realized two things. First: you actually looked... really hot. And second: your appearance had changed. Your eyes were now a striking pink, and small, barely-there horns peeked out from the top of your head.

Curious, you reached up to touch one of them- only to let out a surprised whine. Sensitive. Those little horns were tiny but extremely sensitive.

"How do I change back to normal?" you muttered with a nervous laugh,thinking of every scenario this could go wrong.

Shoulders slumping, you trudged back to your cupcake, peeled off the wrapper, and stuffed the whole thing into your mouth. You probably looked like a chipmunk, but who cared? You had bigger problems-like, for instance, the horns or the bright pink eyes.

As you chewed, you couldn't help but wonder who-or what-that shadowy figure was. He seemed to know way more than he was letting on.

But... how exactly were you supposed to summon him again? You tried doing a strange little "summoning dance," waving your arms around in a circle, but nothing happened.

Wait a second. Weren't succubus supposed to have superpowers? That would be amazing! You'd always wanted powers like Superman or Wonder Woman.

The real problem was... how on earth were you supposed to activate these so-called powers?

Stepping out onto the balcony, you stared at... the wall across from you. Not the most inspiring view-just the brick wall of the building next door, practically in arm's reach. You let out a sigh. "Well, it's not like I'm swinging across rooftops anytime soon," you muttered.

Still... maybe you could try something. Like super strength! Or maybe some kind of powerful leap? Not that you were about to actually jump off the balcony- you weren't that reckless, but if you had powers, how were you supposed to... what, think power on? Activate?

You stretched your arms forward dramatically. "Powers, activate!" Nothing happened. You waved your hands around a bit, wiggled your fingers, even struck a ridiculous pose for good measure. Nada.

"Well, that's disappointing," you grumbled, heading back inside quietly before anyone saw you looking like a wannabe superhero.

Or so you tried to-until you stepped right onto that one loose board on the balcony. The next thing you knew, your ankle twisted in the ridiculously high heels that came with this outfit, and suddenly, you were tilting forward with nothing to grab onto.

And just like that, you found yourself tumbling over the edge.

"Oh, crap! Crap, crap, crap!" you screamed in panic as you fall from the third floor, arms flailing like a bird that had no idea how to fly.

Your mind raced in pure panic as the ground rushed closer. 'This is it' you thought. You just became a succubus and You're about to be a splat on the pavement. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for impact.

But... it never came.

Instead, you felt a strange pull at your core, and you slowed down, hovering just a few feet above the ground. You opened your eyes cautiously, and sure enough, you were floating there mid-air, bobbing slightly like a very confused balloon.

You blinked, stunned. "Did I... just fly?"

Testing it out, you tried to move forward. You wobbled awkwardly, managing to drift a few feet before tilting sideways, nearly tipping over. Okay, this was gonna take some practice.

Still floating, you managed to get back up to your balcony, though not without a few embarrassing bumps along the way.-we don't talk about that- When you finally got back over the railing and landed safely, you let out a deep breath, half-relieved, half-excited.

"So I have powers," you muttered, grinning in spite of yourself.

And behold, this was the moment a very dumb idea went through your head. Did I mention it was dumb? Because, yeah, it was very dumb.

Without a second thought, you decided you might as well check out Gotham at night. Hey, it was a great excuse to test out your powers, right?

With that brilliant thought in mind, you stepped onto the railing of your balcony and, this time, willingly jumped off. Floating in midair, you felt that thrill again-flying was actually getting easier! Or, so you thought. One glance to the left, and suddenly you were veering off course, wobbling wildly as you struggled to stay steady.

You almost crashed right into the huge Wayne Enterprises billboard, narrowly avoiding it by flailing your arms and kicking your legs like a panicked duck.

You found yourself butt-landing onto a fire escape, the metal steps clanging loud enough to make you wince. So much for a graceful first flight.

"Ow," you muttered, rubbing your sore backside. At least you didn't end up face-first in a dumpster. That was something, right?

You pushed yourself up, dusted off, and looked around to make sure no one had seen that very professional landing.

Thankfully, this part of Gotham is usually empty half the time, sparing you from total embarrassment.

You considered that maybe flying wasn't the best idea after all, so you opted for the stairs instead-only to regret that decision a second later.

Those metal stairs combined with your high, pointy heels-which you had no idea how you managed to walk in-were a disaster waiting to happen. Your heels kept getting stuck in the small gaps between the stairs, turning what should have been a simple task into a clumsy game of balance.

Somehow, you managed to get down the stairs and stayed in the shadows, not wanting to attract unwanted attention. As you walked, you stumbled upon what appeared to be a bank robbery.

The bank was small, tucked away in a shady area-no wonder there were no police around. Let's be honest: the police in Gotham really don't do shit anyway. And God knows where vigilantes were...

You gripped the little clothing you had on, your feet glued to the floor-not because of the metal stairs this time, but out of sheer hesitation.

Here's the thing: you may have newfound powers, but you weren't a vigilante. You had no idea how to fight or even how to use your abilities yet. Rushing in recklessly to save people you didn't even know? Not the best plan.

Plus, Batman or one of his allies would probably show up and handle the situation, right?

That was the plan, right...?

Then a loud scream echoed through the air, followed by a gunshot, and your heart stopped. Someone could be dead right now, and you had the power to save them.

But you weren't a vigilante; you were merely a succubus, a very new one too.

"Go," a calm but familiar voice echoed in your ear, and before you could process what was happening, you found yourself sprinting toward the bank. Peering through the windows, you spotted three masked men holding a few bank staff hostage. Luckily, there weren't any customers inside-thankfully, they were closed for the night.

If you remembered correctly, the shadow figure had mentioned that you had the ability to charm people. Maybe that could come in handy?

Glancing around, you searched for a way in. The front door was clearly not an option, and as you walked around the building, you didn't find a back door either. But then, you spotted it: a bathroom window just large enough for you to squeeze through.

Were you seriously about to do this?

You took a deep breath, letting the anticipation wash over you. "You're supposed to do crazy things on your 18th birthday, right?" With an awkward laugh, you opened the window and began to climb in-only to find yourself stuck halfway through, your legs kicking awkwardly as you tried to free yourself.

"Yeah no I'm not going to end up being the stuck stepsister of the night," you muttered, finally wriggling yourself free and tumbling into the small bathroom with a thud.

You glanced around, taking a moment to catch your breath. "Okay, focus," you whispered to yourself.

It seemed the loud thud had caught the attention of one of the thieves, and the door swung open to reveal one of them standing in front of you, gun in hand.

"Um..." you stammered awkwardly, standing there like a deer caught in headlights. How were you supposed to charm this guy again?

You tried winking-after all, that's what people do to charm someone, right?

"Who the fuck are you?" he growled, his expression a mix of confusion and irritation.

Yep, that didn't work at all. You were definitely done for.

"I... I'm just a girl," you blurted out, trying to sound as harmless as possible.

But instead of calming him down, your words seemed to fuel his anger. He raised the gun and fired, but thankfully, you managed to duck just in time, letting out a small scream as you covered your head with your arms.

"Actually... you don't look so bad," he said, his eyes darkening as he sized you up with a new, unsettling interest.

You cringed at his words, hearing his footsteps approach as he towered over your crouched form. Just as he leaned in to grab you, you shot up, your head colliding with his chin. He staggered backward and dropped to the floor, completely knocked out.

Wait... did that actually work? That hadn't exactly been your plan, but hey, you weren't complaining.

Seeing him sprawled out on the ground made you feel a spark of confidence. You grinned and stepped over his unconscious form, making sure to grind your heel into the hand that had nearly grabbed you. "Oh," you muttered, noticing his gun. Quickly, you grabbed it-you might need a little extra help.

Alright, one down, two more to go.

Peeking out the door, you saw one of the other robbers tapping his foot impatiently. "What's taking that idiot so long?" he grumbled, glancing around.

Most of the bank staff were tied up, while two unlucky ones were filling a bag with cash at gunpoint. You bit your lip, trying to think. Maybe you could lure one of them away? You definitely can't two men at once, especially since this was your first time.

"Where are the vigilantes when you need them?" you mumbled, pressing your face into your palm in frustration. "If only I could turn invisible..."

Suddenly, you noticed your hand start to go translucent. You stared, wide-eyed, as the rest of your body began fading too. "I'm not freaking out... I'm not freaking out... I'm freaking out!" you whispered to yourself, resisting the urge to yell.

You'd wanted to turn invisible, but this was surreal-like being a ghost!

Were you going to complain? Absolutely not. After your momentary panic, a wicked grin spread across your face. you rubbed your hands together like a fly- wait why like a fly?

You crept out of the door without a sound, approaching one of the robbers. With a swift punch to his face, he crumpled to the ground, catching the attention of his partner. Before he could react, you followed up with a well-placed kick to his...pp area. Both men went down, groaning on the floor.

Quickly, you gathered their weapons, but after glancing around, you realized you didn't have any rope or anything to tie them up with. Letting out a sigh, you began thinking of your next move, when your ears picked up stood steps approaching.

It seems your senses have been improved.

The front doors burst open, and a vigilante strode in. You quietly tiptoed to the side, raising an eyebrow. What kind of hero just barges in through the front door? You rolled your eyes, watching as he surveyed the scene in confusion.

Just as you thought you could slip out, he whipped out a baton and threw it your way. "Wha-!" You barely managed to dodge it, shooting him side eyes.

"Can't have you sneaking away now, can I?" he said smoothly, his gaze following your movement. Wait... could he see you? You glanced down, still invisible. How did he know?

Picking your jaw off the floor, you started to say something, but quickly changed your mind. He was nightwing, trained by Batman himself, so of course he'd sense someone was there.

You let out a small sigh and turned off your invisibility, meeting his now slightly widened eyes. He recovered quickly, though, looking unfazed.

"There's one unconscious in the bathroom," you said confidently, gesturing with a nod toward the door.

He glanced down at the two men on the ground, too dazed to move. "You... did all this?"

You nodded, but before he could ask another question, you bolted toward the door-or at least, you tried to. Just as you were about to step outside, his hand shot out, grabbing you firmly and stopping you in your tracks.

"Ah-!" you squeaked, pausing with a pout. "I'm not a villain," you insisted, crossing your arms with as much indignation as you could muster.

He raised an eyebrow. "Then who are you?"

You blinked, holding his gaze, before a mischievous smirk spread across your face. Your eyes glowed a little more pink as you leaned in, voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "The girl who's going to haunt your dirtiest dreams."

Before he could even react, you somehow slipped out of his grip, leaving him standing there bewildered as you sprinted out of the bank.

Not looking back, you floated all the way back to your apartment, bumping into things left and right. Each impact made you cringe a little harder-not just from the bumps, but from the embarrassing line you'd dropped earlier. "The girl who will appear in your dirtiest dream?" Seriously? You wanted to disappear just thinking about it.

As soon as you got inside, you headed straight for the couch, burying your face in a pillow with a groan. The scene replayed in your head on a loop for a good 30 minutes before you finally managed to shift your focus to something else: how on earth to turn back to normal.

Rolling onto your side, you caught a glint of something under the coffee table. Reaching out lazily, you pulled it closer and realized it was the pendant-the one you were supposed to keep on you at all times. Without thinking, you slipped it back around your neck.

And just like that, your clothes transformed back to normal.

You rushed over to the mirror and sure enough, you looked like yourself again-mostly. Your eyes still held a slight hint of pink, but you doubted anyone would notice.

Curious, you decided to test your theory. Taking off the pendant, you watched as the tiny horns reappeared. So that was the trick!

"Oh, cool" you mumbled under your breath, putting it back on.

Maybe it was the adrenaline finally wearing off, or the sheer chaos of tonight catching up with you, but you felt yourself teetering on the edge of exhaustion, just one step away from crashing right there in the living room.

But no-somehow, you managed to scrape together the last bit of energy to drag yourself toward your bedroom. Your steps were slow, heavy, almost zombie-like. If anyone saw you now, they might actually mistake you for the undead, stumbling down the hall with only the thought of collapsing on your bed keeping you moving.

You let out a tired sigh, replaying flashes of the night in your mind. The discovery, the thrill, the whole insane twist your life took in just a few short hours. And now...you were supposed to go back to normal? Act like this was just another day at college?

Flopping onto your bed, you closed your eyes, leaving the problems to the future you to deal with as you let the sleep fairy take you to the dreamland.

Yall thank @purplexing-writing-and-concepts for beta reading it <33

I have no idea when chap 1 will be out, hopefully in a month or so.

✎ ∙︓⋅⠄✯∘⠄✧

Taglist: @xingyunny @4rachn3

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unabashegirl · 7 months ago

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my best friend's dad | part 1

Y/N and Scarlett Styles are best friends in college. They share everything even their plans for Spring Break. They have a trip to Bahamas planned. Everything takes a turn when Scarlett is unable to fly, and Y/N is forced to coexist and interact with Scarlett's dad.

Author's note: hello everyone, i hope you are all having a lovely night. As promised, here is a two-part one shot. I tried to make it one part, but as I wrote I realized I needed to give more context and build up the tension between Harry and Y/N.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to the second part (+4K words) and much more :) thank you beforehand!

word count: 6.9K

warnings: talk about smut

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From the very first day, Y/N had doubts about the career she had chosen to study in college. To be truthful, she had picked journalism because she admired how polished the reporters looked on the news. Her uncertainty vanished the moment she met Scarlett Styles at the end of her freshman year. Meeting Scarlett made it all worthwhile. They met in one of those classes that was just a filler for the syllabus, where no one ever attended and the professor didn’t seem to care, giving everyone the same grade.

Since freshman year, they had been inseparable. Y/N admired Scarlett in many ways. She loved how Scarlett stood up for what she believed was right, fighting with grace and facts. Scarlett influenced Y/N and helped her gain the confidence she lacked. She was much different from her freshman self.

"Alright, what do you think?" Y/N asked as she finished tying the side strings of her bikini bottoms. "Be honest." Y/N had Facetimed Scarlett for the approval of her outfits for their upcoming trip.

"Love it. That's definitely your color. How many are you taking?" Scarlett was in England, having flown back home to see her grandma and meet her youngest cousin before flying to the Caribbean to meet Y/N.

"Ten?" Y/N asked as she wrapped her bathrobe around herself and slipped off the red bikini she had just tried on. "Is that too much?"

"I think that's too little," Scarlett giggled. "I think that's all we’re going to wear for those two weeks."

"Crap," Y/N said, pursing her lips as she looked for more options. "The rest of my bikinis are too skimpy. I might have to buy more."

"Just take those," Scarlett rolled her eyes, looking at her best friend through her phone. "Stop spending money. Your mom is going to have a heart attack when she sees the credit card bill."

"I can't! They're too tiny! Your dad is going to be there," Y/N complained as she held up one of the smallest bikinis. "I want to make a good impression. He’s going to think I’m a whore."

"Please! My dad is probably going to be locked up in the house, designing and drawing. We’re barely going to see him."

"Fine, but you have to stick up for me when he kicks me out of the rental for nudity," Y/N said, laughing along with Scarlett, who knew her father was likely too busy to pay attention to their outfits, even on vacation.

Y/N continued her packing, occasionally glancing at the screen to see Scarlett’s reactions. After sorting through a few more outfits, she plopped down on her bed with a sigh.

"I'm so excited," Y/N said, smiling at Scarlett. "A much-needed break."

"From all the partying," Scarlett laughed. "I'm actually looking forward to some quiet time away from all the nonsense."

"Have you talked to him? Has he texted you?" Y/N asked, referring to Scarlett's boyfriend, Henry. They had a fallout two days before the break when Scarlett told him he couldn’t go to the Bahamas with them.

"He's still giving me the cold shoulder," Scarlett shrugged, trying to act like she wasn't hurt, but Y/N could read her too easily. She could tell Scarlett was hurt and disappointed. "I’m just not ready for him to meet my dad. Why is it so hard for him to understand? He means everything to me. I don't bring every guy I date to meet my dad. It's disrespectful."

Henry and Scarlett had started going out four months ago after meeting at a dorm party.

"His reaction is very childish if you ask me," Y/N said. She could tell that they weren't going to last. Scarlett hated being restrained or forced to do something she didn’t agree with. "He’s your dad. You choose when is the right time to meet him."

"I feel like he's just using the excuse of meeting my dad to tag along on the trip," Scarlett revealed. "Why would he want to meet him when we’ve only just met?" Y/N nodded; she had thought about it too but had refrained from saying it.

"Time will only tell, Scar." Her best friend only nodded. After they hung up, Y/N felt a mixture of excitement and nerves. She finished packing and went straight to bed.

The day of the trip finally arrived. Y/N was getting some much-needed coffee and a snack when she was interrupted by a call from Scarlett.

"I'll never understand why people can be so slow through the TSA—"

"Y/N, please don’t kill me," she interrupted, her voice filled with urgency. Scarlett had a knot in her throat.

"What? What happened?"

"They aren't letting me board the plane. My passport expires in less than six months." She was embarrassed; nothing like this had ever happened to her. Scarlett usually checked everything multiple times. However, the one time she hadn’t was last night. "I've talked with my dad, and he's calling some people, but I'm going to miss my flight and probably the first week of the trip until I can renew it."

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water on her. She was disappointed and felt like crying.

"Y/N? Are you still there?"

"Y-yeah," she cleared her throat, noticing that the barista was calling out to her. It was her turn to order. Y/N stepped aside and allowed the next person to go before her. She was no longer thirsty or hungry. "So, I’m just going to find someone to get my luggage back and go home."

"What? You aren’t going to get on the plane? Why not?"

"What am I going to do without you?"

"Relax, read a book, listen to music, get a tan and a massage, and wait until next week for me to get there. Don’t be silly," Scarlett stated the obvious. She was just calling to let Y/N know the reason for her absence, but that didn’t mean the entire trip was canceled. She was just going to be late.

"I don’t know, Scar…"

"I am not taking no for an answer, Y/N. You spent way too much money on your seat on that plane. You opted out of eating quite a few times just to be able to afford it. My dad is already there, so you won’t be completely alone."

Y/N sighed, feeling torn between her disappointment and Scarlett's insistence. "Okay, you’re right," she finally conceded. “but please hurry up”

“I will. I’ll miss you,” Scarlett replied. “I promise I’ll get on the flight first out as soon as I get my passport sorted. In the meantime, just try to enjoy yourself. It’s the Caribbean, after all.”

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath, trying to normalize her pulse after the panic attack that she had started having.

“I’ll try my best.”

“That's the spirit. Give my dad a hug for me and have a safe flight. Text me when you land”

“Love you. Bye”

After hanging up, Y/N forced herself to focus on the positive. The trip was a chance to unwind, and she needed to make the best out of it. She ordered her coffee, though her appetite hadn’t quite returned and headed towards her gate.

Y/N boarded the plane and found her seat and after stowing her carry- on, she settled into the window seat, gazing out at the bustling airport below.

Just as she was about to pull out her book, a tall, handsome man appeared beside her. "Looks like I'm your seatmate," he said with a friendly smile, gesturing to the seat next to her.

Y/N smiled back, noticing his warm hazel eyes and easygoing demeanor. "Great, nice to meet you," she replied.

"I'm Anthony," he introduced himself, extending a hand.

“Y/N," she said, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you too."

As the plane took off, they struck up a conversation. Anthony was friendly and easy to talk to, and Y/N found herself enjoying his company. They talked about their reasons for going to the Bahamas, shared travel stories, and laughed about the little quirks of airplane travel.

"So, what's bringing you to the Bahamas?" Anthony asked after the plane reached cruising altitude.

"I'm meeting a best friend for spring break," Y/N explained. "She got held up with a passport issue, so I’m flying solo for now."

"That’s a bummer," Anthony said sympathetically, “I am also heading there for spring break with some friends. Maybe we’ll run into each other again. What are your plans for the trip?”

“A bit of everything, I guess. Relaxing, exploring and trying out some local food. You?”

“Pretty much the same. We’re staying at a resort, but I’m hoping to see more than just the touristy spots. I’ve heard the local culture is amazing.”

They continued chatting, sharing their interests and dreams. Anthony told her about his job in marketing, his love for surfing, and his plans to travel more. Y/N opened up about her studies, her passion for writing, and her excitement for the upcoming trip.

As the plane began its descent, Anthony turned to her with a smile. “Let me give you my number. In case you ever want to join us”.

"Sure," Y/N said, smiling back. She handed him her phone, and he quickly entered his contact information.

“Feel free to text me if you want to hang out” Anthony said, hanging her phone back. “And if you ever want to try surging. I am your guy”

"I might take you up on that," Y/N said, slipping her phone into her bag.

Once the plane landed, they gathered their belongings and headed towards baggage claim together. "It was really nice meeting you," Y/N said as they reached the terminal.

"You too, Y/N. Have a great time, and hopefully, I’ll see you around."

"Definitely," Y/N replied, giving him a wave as they went their separate ways.

Scarlett had arranged for a driver to pick them up, so after she collected her luggage, she met with him by the exit doors of the airport.

As Y/N exited the bustling airport, she was greeted by a warm, tropical breeze and the vibrant colors of the Bahamas. Her driver, a cheerful man named Marcus, welcomed her with a friendly smile and helped load her luggage into a sleek black SUV. Once she was settled in the backseat, they set off toward the villa where she would be staying with Scarlett’s dad.

The drive began with a stretch through Nassau’s lively streets, brimming with a mix of local culture and tourist attractions. Y/N watched as vendors sold fresh fruits and handmade crafts from colorful stalls, and locals mingled with visitors in an atmosphere buzzing with energy. The smell of jerk chicken and conch fritters wafted through the air, making her stomach rumble in anticipation.

As they left the city behind, the scenery shifted to a more serene landscape. Palm trees lined the roads, their fronds swaying gently in the breeze. The vibrant turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea came into view, sparkling under the bright midday sun. Y/N marveled at the clarity of the water, so inviting that she could hardly wait to dive in.

They passed through quaint villages with charming pastel-colored houses, each with its own unique character. Children played in the yards, and neighbors chatted over fences, giving the area a warm, community feel. Y/N felt a sense of calm wash over her as they continued along the coastal road.

Y/N nodded, taking mental notes of places to explore once Scarlett arrived. The drive continued, and the road wound through lush tropical forests, alive with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, adding to the sensory delight.

As they neared the villa, the landscape became even more picturesque. The road led them up a gentle hill, providing breathtaking views of the ocean and the surrounding islands. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over everything.

Finally, they arrived at the villa. It was a stunning, two-story retreat perched on a cliff overlooking the sea. The architecture blended modern elegance with tropical charm, featuring large windows, spacious balconies, and a thatched roof. The garden was a paradise of vibrant flowers, exotic plants, and a sparkling infinity pool that seemed to merge with the ocean beyond.

Marcus helped Y/N with her bags and guided her inside. The interior of the villa was just as impressive as the exterior. The open-plan living area was filled with natural light, and decorated in soothing, coastal hues of blue and white. Comfortable, stylish furniture invited relaxation, and the large glass doors opened onto a terrace with panoramic ocean views.

That’s when she heard a heavy British accent say, “she is here. I’ll call you later. Let me know what they say. I love you”

Harry, Scarlett’s dad appeared from upstairs. “You must be Y/N” he said, walking over to her. “I am Harry. Welcome to our little paradise”. To say that Y/N’ was beyond surprised was an understatement. Slightly sunburned from a day in the Caribbean sun, his skin had taken on a warm, reddish hue that only accentuated his natural good looks. He was shirtless, revealing a toned, athletic build, with tattoos peeking from various places on his chest and arms. His swim trunks hung low on his hips, showcasing a casual, relaxed style. Harry’s tousled hair, still damp from a recent swim, fell in soft curls around his face, and he wore a pair of sunglasses that added a touch of mystery to his striking appearance. His easy smile and confident demeanor made him all the more attractive, embodying the perfect blend of laid-back island vibes

She had expected someone older and more conventional, not the youthful, charismatic man before her. He looked far too young to have a college-aged daughter.

“Hi,” Y/N replied, feeling a bit fluster. “Thank you for having me, Mr. Styles. It’s so beautiful here.”

“Call me Harry” He laughed softly, a sound as charming as his smile. “I hope you’ll feel at home”.

As he spoke, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the easy confidence with which he carried himself was undeniably attractive.

She suddenly felt self-conscious, acutely aware of her travel-worn clothes and the fact that she probably smelled like the airplane. She smoothed her hair, hoping she didn't look as tired as she felt.

Harry seemed to sense her unease. "Long flight?" he asked kindly.

"Yeah, a bit," Y/N admitted, feeling a little dirty and disheveled beside him.

"Well, I can imagine you might want to freshen up. Your room has a great view and a nice big bathroom. Why don't you get settled in, and we'll have some lunch out here later?"

"That sounds perfect," Y/N said, grateful for his understanding.

Harry gave her a reassuring nod. "If you need anything, just let me know. Scarlett speaks very highly of you."

"Thank you," Y/N said, touched by his kindness. "I really appreciate it."

As she turned to head to her room, she caught herself glancing back at Harry, who had returned to lounging by the pool. His relaxed posture and the way he effortlessly fit into the tropical surroundings only added to his allure. Y/N shook her head, trying to focus. She was here to enjoy a vacation with her best friend, not get distracted by her best friend's dad, no matter how attractive and intriguing he was.

Once in her room, Y/N took a deep breath and started unpacking. The luxurious surroundings helped her relax, and as she stepped into the shower, she let the cold water wash away the travel grime and her lingering nerves. She knew this trip was going to be full of surprises, and meeting Harry was just the first of many.

After a refreshing shower, Y/N felt revitalized and ready to embrace the beauty of the Bahamas. She rummaged through her suitcase, deciding on an outfit for the evening. With a bit of confidence restored, she picked out a vibrant bikini that Scarlett had convinced her to buy. It was a flattering shade of coral that accentuated her curves and complemented her complexion. The bikini top offered just the right amount of support, enhancing her figure without being too revealing.

She took her time getting ready, applying a light layer of sunscreen and letting her hair dry naturally into soft waves. Y/N gave herself one last approving look in the mirror, feeling much better than she had after the flight. She slipped into a flowy cover-up and grabbed her favorite book before heading downstairs.

As she walked through the villa, she could hear the faint sound of music and the gentle hum of conversation from the terrace. Stepping outside, she saw Harry lounging by the pool, sipping a drink and reading something on his tablet. He looked up as she approached, his eyes widening slightly as he took in her appearance.

“Better?”

Y/N nodded, feeling a rush of warmth feeling embarrassed by her appearance earlier.

“I though I’d take your advice and relax by the pool for a bit.” As she placed her book on the sunbed, just so she could let her cover-up slip off, revealing her bikini. Harry’s appreciative gaze didn’t go unnoticed and she felt a surge of confidence.

“Good” he replied, gesturing to the sunbed next to his. “I hope you applied some sunscreen. The sun here is ruthless”

“I did” She smiled and settled onto the sunbed, feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin. She opened her book, trying to focus on the words, but she couldn't help but steal glances at Harry. He was even more attractive up close, with his sun-kissed skin and the tattoos that peeked out from his swim trunks. The way he effortlessly exuded confidence and charm was captivating.

"Good book?" Harry asked, breaking her reverie.

"Yeah, it is," Y/N said, trying to sound casual. "I’ve been meaning to finish it for a while.”

"What's it about?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"It’s a mystery novel," she explained, holding up the cover for him to see. "Keeps me on my toes.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves and the tropical breeze creating a soothing backdrop. Y/N felt a sense of contentment she hadn't expected. The rest of their first day was spent by the pool. Harry excused himself after dinner to work. On the other hand Y/N stayed outside to watch the sunset on her own.

“What are you working on?” Y/N asked the next day as she noticed Harry picking up his tablet and stylus.

“Designing a new building” Harry was the owner of an architectural firm. He spent most of his days, leaned over his design table, drawing.

“What kind of building is it?” Y/N said, genuinely impressed.

"It’s a mixed-use development," Harry replied, turning the tablet so she could see the screen. "It’s going to have retail spaces on the lower levels and residential units above. The idea is to create a community where people can live, work, and play all in one place."

Y/N leaned in closer, sliding her sunglasses down, admiring the detailed sketches and blueprints. “What’s your vision for it?”

Harry’s eyes lit up as he began to explain. “The design focuses on sustainability and integrating green spaces. There will be rooftop gardens, lots of natural light, and energy-efficient systems. I’m trying to create something that not only looks good but also feels good to live in.”

Y/N could hear the passion in his voice as he spoke, and she was fascinated by his creativity. “It sounds truly special”

“I hope it is” Harry said, smiling appreciatively.

Y/N watched as Harry continued to draw, the lines and shapes forming into intricate designs under his skilled hand. "How did you get into architecture?"

“I’ve always loved drawing and building things," Harry said, leaning back and gazing at the horizon. “When I was a kid, I’d spend hours with sketchbooks. It just felt natural to pursue architecture. I studied it in college and worked my way up through different firms before starting my own. How about you? What are you majoring in?" Harry asked, his tone genuinely curious.

Y/N frowned slightly, feeling a twinge of disappointment that she didn't share the same passion for her career choice as he did. "Journalism," she replied with a hint of hesitation, her gaze momentarily drifting away. She took a deep breath, feeling a pang of uncertainty as she compared her own career path to Harry's evident passion for architecture.

"It's... it's something I chose because I thought it would be interesting," she admitted, her voice tinged with a mix of honesty and self-reflection. "But lately, I've been feeling like maybe it's not what I'm truly passionate about."

Harry listened attentively, his expression thoughtful. "I understand," he said gently. “It’s okay. You are still young and it takes time to find that passion. Have you though about what inspires you?”

Y/N nodded, grateful for his understanding. "I've always enjoyed writing and telling stories," she admitted. "But I haven't found that one thing that really lights a fire in me, like architecture does for you."

Harry smiled warmly. “Don’t beat yourself up for it. You still got a long way ahead of you and sometimes that passion reveals itself unexpectedly” he said.

Y/N felt a weight lift off her shoulders as she listened to Harry's encouraging words. She realized that she didn't have to have everything figured out right away. This trip, with its new experiences and conversations like this one, was already helping her see things from a different perspective.

After a while, Harry put down his tablet and stretched. "I think it’s time for a swim down at the beach. Care to join me?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment but then nodded. "Sure, why not?"

They made their way through a winding path bordered by lush foliage, leading to a secluded stretch of beach that seemed untouched by the usual tourist crowds. The soft sand greeted their feet as they approached the water's edge, the gentle lapping of the waves creating a soothing soundtrack. Harry glanced around with a smile.

“Breathtaking as always” he remarked, gesturing to the pristine beach.

Y/N nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of tranquility wash over her. The beach was indeed stunning, with its turquoise waters and powdery white sand stretching into the distance. It felt like a hidden paradise, far removed from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

"I can see why Scarlett loves it here," Y/N said, taking in the beauty of the surroundings.

The next day dawned with a soft, rosy glow creeping over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. Harry woke before the sun, as was his routine, slipping on his running gear quietly so as not to disturb the peacefulness of the villa. He tiptoed downstairs, the floor cool under his feet, and headed for the front door. As he passed through the living room, he glanced out onto the terrace.

There, on one of the sunbeds, Y/N lay curled up under a blanket, her silhouette softened by the early morning light. She had fallen asleep waiting for the sunrise, her peaceful expression making her look even more serene. Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He found it endearing

Resisting the urge to wake her, Harry quietly slipped outside and started his jog along the quiet streets. The rhythmic pounding of his footsteps helped clear his mind, but try as he might, thoughts of Y/N kept intruding. He couldn't shake the image of her in that attractive bikini, her laughter echoing in his mind from the day before. It wasn't just her physical beauty that captivated him; it was her warmth, her intelligence, and the easy way they connected.

Feeling a pang of guilt, Harry quickened his pace, pushing himself harder. He hadn't expected to be so affected by Y/N's presence, and he chastised himself for dwelling on thoughts that felt inappropriate given their relationship. He had spent the previous day enjoying her company, sharing stories, and learning about her dreams and ambitions. Yet, now he found himself unable to shake the attraction he felt towards her.

By the time he returned to the villa, the sun was fully risen, casting a bright light over the tropical landscape. Harry took a deep breath, trying to steady his thoughts as he cooled down. He decided to take a cold shower, hoping the shock of cold water would help clear his mind. As he stood under the refreshing spray, he couldn't help but feel ashamed of his inner turmoil. He didn't want to complicate things or make Y/N uncomfortable during their time together.

He just couldn’t get that damn bikini off his mind. The one she had wore the day before. The red color complemented her sun-kissed skin beautifully, accentuating her curves in all the right places. His hand creeped down and grabbed throbbing cock, trying get some release from the torture that he was experiencing. Her confidence and natural grace shone through, making her even more captivating. He admired the way she moved with a relaxed elegance, her laughter and smiles lighting up the surroundings. Every detail, from the way her hair fell in gentle waves to the sparkle in her eyes as she talked animatedly, only added to her allure.

He couldn’t help imagining her naked, under him, moaning, begging for him. Harry though about how deliciously tight and warm she could feel around him. He thought about how she would taste and his mouth water. He didn’t last long. As he allowed the water to wash him off, he couldn’t help feeling ashamed. Ashamed that he was acting like a schoolboy. He was forty-four years old and fantasizing about his daughter's best friend while she slept downstairs.

part 2

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thebestofoneshots · 1 year ago

Text

touches | Remus Lupin x Reader

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Word Count: 12.8 k (yeah, I don't even know how this happened, but damn do I love the final result)

Warnings: smut, teasing, dry hump*ng, finger fucking, hand job, masturbati*n, P in V, lots of praise, consent is sexy, lusty!Remus, he literally can't take his eyes off you. His big, sexy destrous hands make you quiver.

Prompt: Inspired by the sense of touch, this fic tells the story of Remus being absolutely head over heels for you and his obsession with a particular picture of you in a sundress. A picture, that unleashes his most lecherous, and debaucherous self.

Mutual Pinning, Idiots in Love, smut with a plot

sights is part of The Five Senses: an anthology series where each chapter will be a stand alone story, inspired by the different ways we have of perceiving the world around us.

♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut

You had had crushes before, but whatever this thing you had going on for Remus Lupin was something else entirely. Enticing, addicting, almost like a drug, no, not almost, Remus Lupin was most definitely like a drug to you.

The smell of his cologne was intoxicating, you could actually tell he was coming in your direction just from the sheer scent that would hit you before his beautiful face did, and you would instantly perk up, and try to act as natural as possible when he passed by. It didn’t help that every single time he saw you he would smile so brightly, you felt like your entire world was being illuminated. He’d then walk closer to you, greet you, and place an arm over your shoulders, especially if you had to go to the same place, and most of the time you were going to the same place, the library.

You would sit across each other and no matter how much fucking attention you tried to pay to whatever book you were reading, or to whatever it was you were trying to study, you’d continuously get distracted by him. By the way he flipped the pages of his book, by the way he shifted on the chair, by the way he fucking breathed. You weren’t sure it was a crush anymore, since it started feeling like a bIoody obsession instead.

There was something about the way his rich brown eyes looked at you that made you feel so fucking high, you might have as well held the record of the person with the most feet above the ground while flying a broom.

The absolute worst part was the dreams you were having, it all started one time you were all chilling in the common room and for some reason you ended up with your feet over his lap, you didn’t even remember how it happened, but you certainly did remember how it had felt. The sly wolf had placed his stupid hot hands over your legs, and as he was talking to everyone, he started gently –and absentmindedly you assumed– rubbing small circles over your knees. And then his hand had traveled a bit upwards, just above your knee, nothing indecent really, just a stupid friendly hand, a friendly hand that was so big, and strong and dextrous that you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Even days after it happened you were still thinking about the ghost of his hands ever so present in your head. But it wasn’t until exactly one and a half weeks later, that you solidified your obsession. You had a dream in which the exact same thing happened, except this time the rest of your friends weren’t there, and Remus' hand continued to travel upwards, and upwards, until it reached the place where you had wanted it the most.

And he had done so many filthy and nasty things in your dream that when you woke up you weren’t only blushing for what had happened, but your panties had been so ruined that you had to change them before anyone noticed what had happened. Next time you saw Remus you were so fucking mortified you couldn’t even look at him in the eye.

Remus Lupin wasn’t much better either. He had thought of you as beautiful from the day he met you, stunning even, but that had been that. You were all just kids and all just friends. In fact, he thought James was weird for having a crush on 12-year-old Lily. Who has a crush when you’re 12?, he’d thought, girls are dumb and entitled.

Yeah, perhaps Remus didn’t have a crush on you from the very beginning like James had fallen for Lily, and he might have even thought he didn’t even like girls at some point, especially when he took into account his misadventures with Sirius and other boys in 5th year. But one day you were all having dinner, and then you bit into the juiciest plum he had ever seen, some of the sugary liquid spilling down from your lips as you took the fruit away from them, and something fucking snapped in Remus.

You noticed he was staring, and gave him a bright smile “This one’s insanely good, wanna bite?” you’d asked him as you pushed the deep red fruit towards his face. On the inside, it was a lighter hue of red, and Remus swallowed when he noticed the bite marks on the side of its skin, your bite marks. ”I promise you’d like it,” you said as you dangled the fruit over his face. The boy did eventually lean in and gave the fruit a bite, his nose accidentally brushing against your hand. You blinked a couple of times when he peered through his lashes at you mid-bite, really trying to swallow the nasty thoughts that came into your head.

Remus didn’t so much as manage to do that, after the bite he pulled back, placing a napkin over his mouth to clean up the sugary wetness left by the fruit, and nodded, yeah, it had been a bIoody tasty fruit “Delicious.”

“Told you,” you’d responded with a smile and gave it another bite, moaning just a little at the flavour. If Remus Lupin’s pants were already making him uncomfortable, the way you fucking ate that fruit all the way ‘till the end, could have been his elegy.

“Dеad for lusting over his friend” he imagined his grave would say, feeling miserable over having such nasty thoughts of you. When you crossed the table to tell James something about a prank, Remus didn’t think much of it, he just sank a little deeper onto the chair and placed his robes over his lap to try and mask what was actually going on. He tried imagining Dumbledore naked, and it seemed to have worked at least a little bit, but after you were done you placed your hand on his shoulder and leaned over to him with a soft smile on your face.

“I’m going to the library to go over some charms, you coming?” you asked him.

He barely managed to muster a tight-lipped smile and shook his head “I’m… I’m not feeling too good, I’ll be going to the dorms,” he somehow managed to say.

“Oh, all right,” you smiled, letting your hand draw from shoulder to shoulder, brushing just for a second over the skin of the back of his neck, and that just made another shiver run down his spine, “I’ll see you around then!” You said just before melting into the crowds of students as you left. Remus had to stay on his seat for a good 15 minutes after that.

"Moony, you’re not coming?" James asked him as he stood up and started walking with the boys.

Sirius burst out into a devilish smile “Oh he is cumming, all right!" the boy said. James didn’t get the joke, but Remus groaned and let his head fall on the table. Sirius knew now. BIoody fantastic!

Next thing Remus knew, he was getting the most random boners whenever you were around, and he felt like absolute shit. Especially since you weren’t doing anything that should be causing those kinds of reactions on him. Or at least you weren’t doing them to get him turned on. Leaning down to pick up a pencil that had fallen to the ground and flashing him with the short shorts you wore under your skirt as the two of you walked towards the library shouldn’t have gotten his cock to twitch and yet he had to lie to you and tell you to get ahead of the two since “he had forgotten something”.

He also shouldn’t have gotten a boner when you pressed yourself against him in a hug to wish him a happy birthday, or when you gave him a small kiss on the cheek after he won the Wizards’ Chess contest. To be fair, you weren’t even sure where you’d mustered up the courage for that one, since you had turned so red you had fled the place before you even noticed the small tent on his pants.

He shouldn’t have gotten one when Bins had you cross over the classroom and used you as a teacher’s assistant to write down things on the board. But he could’ve sworn your shirt was shorter that day, nothing more than a few inches, but there was definitely a lot more skin to see.

The one time he had a boner in the library because he dropped his parchment and leaned in to get it, realizing that for some reason you hadn’t worn your usual shorts and instead under your skirt he could actually see your knickers, was the time he thought it was acceptable. Especially when he did a double-take after he noticed the lacy pattern on your black underwear. Regardless it did nothing to make him not feel like a perv, even less when you leaned down on the table and gave him a rather concerned look “You okay Rem?” you asked “Did you find your parchment?”

He coughed a couple of times, thankfully the parchment had fallen a bit away from his grasp, and he somehow pointed at it. You nodded in comprehension and extended your leg to kick the parchment towards him, flashing him even more in the process. He had to avert his gaze as soon as your eyes turned back to him “thanks,” he said, voice strained, both of you were back over the table in a second.

You frowned “Sure you’re okay?” you asked again, leaning in closer with your extended hand just inches away from his face, but you pulled your hand away from him when you realized the apprehensive way he was staring at you. He was thankful, he was sure he might have cum in his pants had you actually placed your hand over his cheek the way you sometimes did.

Lily had come and get you from the library and he had just stayed there, face hidden under his arms as he cursed himself for being a perv. Then he felt a hand over his leg and almost jumped from his seat, realizing it was just Sirius.

The blue-eyed boy was looking at his friend with a knowing smile, Remus pulled back just a little “I’ve seen what’s been happening to you.”

“You haven’t seen shit,” Remus responded defensively which just got a laugh from Sirius.

“Moony, if you think I haven’t seen the way you shift in your seat whenever she’s around, or the way you subtly place your bag over your lap in class sometimes, or the way you stayed down the table for a little longer than you would in any normal situation, then–”

“–Shut it, shut it, shut it,” he said as he attempted to place his hands over Sirius, the other boy just laughed again.

“I’m here to give you advice,” the other boy said calmly as he grabbed Remus’ wrists to stop them from accidentally hitting him.

Remus eyed him suspiciously “What advice?”

“Wank it off,” Sirius said with a shrug.

Remus deadpanned “I’m not gonna,” he started and then added in a hushed tone “wank it off!”

“It’s the only solution I see, that or you tell her you have the hots for her.”

“That’s not happening either.”

“Could do it for you,” the boy shrugged again. “Seduce her and bring her onto your bed.”

“Sirius, you’re most definitely not going to seduce my crush.”

“But it’s painful to see you like this,” the other boy said, pointing at the bulge in Remus’ pants that was only now starting to subside.

“Well then don’t look!” Remus said pointedly, pulled a book from the table and started reading it. Sirius knew it was useless to say anything after that, but he also knew he had somewhat been successful, the idea had already been planted in his friend’s head.

And really, it’s not that Remus wanted to think about it, but when he got another boner over you just walking past him, he knew he had to find a solution to his problem. And, in the end, the solution found him instead. You were just walking away from the library when something dropped from your bag, “hey wait you…” he leaned over to pass it on to you, but he noticed then that it was a picture of you. You were wearing a sundress, a milkmaid sundress, pale yellow with small pink flowers, and you were smiling towards the camera as you moved and looked back at the castle behind you. He realized quickly it was Bayern, the castle you told him you had gone to visit on your last summer vacation that had a rather complicated German name he hadn’t cared to memorize.

And while the castle was definitely an impressive feat of architecture, it was half as impressive as you in that sundress. You had shown him several pictures of your trip, but you had never shown him that one, he almost felt like he had been robbed of something from not being able to see you in that dress before.

“You said something?” You asked, turning around to look at him. He quickly pocketed the small picture and shook his head, pulling the pencil he had been holding on his other hand.

“Just dropped this,” he said with a tight-lipped smile, trying not to let the guilt consume him.

“All right, see you at dinner,” you said as you turned around with a shrug and started walking away from the library.

He could feel the soft edges of the small photograph in his pockets with his hand still inside it, he was aching to get to see you in that bIoody sundress again, so after giving it some thought, that being exactly four seconds, he decided he’d have to skip class that day. Consequences be damned, he had to get to his room.

In what could easily be considered record time, Remus was already in the common room, running up the stairs and opening the door to his shared room, he walked inside and looked around, trying to make sure there was no one in there. Score, room was empty, even the bathroom. While he started walking to the bed, he started having second thoughts. “You can’t do this” a little voice in his head said “It’s wrong, you’re betraying her trust”.

Remus tried to shove those thoughts away as he continued feeling the edges of the photograph still safely tucked inside his pocket. He flipped his fingers over one of them and heard the small thump of the paper muffled by the fabric of his pants. Is it really wrong if I…? He wondered. It’s not like you had given him the picture… it's not like you had trusted him with it and he was about to do something heinous with it. In fact, he had stumbled into the picture, it had been all an accident, a coincidence, so if it were to actually wank it off with it, he wouldn’t be doing anything wrong, would he?

He approached his bed, he’d made a decision, he was sure, a few steps towards it and he was taking another step back, still fidgeting with his hand on the pliant photograph paper. And then he remembered the stash. He leaned under Peter’s bed –where they all kept their shit– and went straight for one of the playwizzard magazines. He started staring at the pictures of the beautiful nude witches, with their huge assets and their surprisingly hot movements. He sat down on his bed and continued staring, making sure to use a spell to lock the door as he started unzipping his pants.

But the witches were doing fucking nothing, nothing compared to what you did with 4 layers of clothing, nothing compared to his reaction to seeing you in that sundress. “Fuck!” he whispered-screamed frustrated as he threw the magazine to the floor, it falling back into place under Peter’s bed. He let himself fall on it and stared at the ceiling. The fucking photo he knew was still in his pocket weighing like led, he imagined you moving around in it, he remembered how the dress hugged your perfect soft curves from the seconds glimpse he’d gotten at it and… he felt the rush of bIood flowing downward.

“Just this once,” he said to himself as if he really thought he’d be able to stop afterwards “Just this once,” he repeated as he shut the curtains around his bed, out of shame rather than a bigger need of privacy, “just this once…” he repeated as he pulled the picture from his pocket, the back was facing him, there was a small legend on it, written in elegant cursive handwriting, your handwriting. He brushed his finger over it as he read “Neuschwanstein, Summer 1976”. So that was the name of the castle, he thought as he moved his other hand to his trousers.

He didn’t turn the picture, not yet, he hoped his imagination would be enough, he hoped that if he didn’t actually look at the picture while doing it, he’d have the moral high ground. He also knew that that was all bullshit from his own head trying to justify his actions. He started rubbing his hand over his trousers, feeling how hard the thought of you had made him. The nude witches from the magazine hadn’t done half that, it had been you.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath as he started rubbing, not taking himself out. Not yet, he had to engrave that picture of you deep in his brain before starting, as if it hadn’t been done the moment he spotted it on the floor of the library.

He continued to rub until he was panting and he stood up, kneeling on the bed instead of sitting down, undoing his button and pulling both his pants and briefs down in a surprisingly swift motion. He was so hard, there was already a bit of precum coming from him. He took a deep breath and placed his hands around himself, he gulped when he did, and then reached forward, flicking his finger over his tip, spreading some of the warm liquid over it, but it wasn’t enough. He brought his hand up and spit on it, using that as a lubricant as he started to move his hand up and down along his shaft. Slow at first, trying to remember the way you looked, but the more he pumped, the foggier his brain got, it was like he couldn’t hold the picture of you in his brain.

On the spur of the moment, he made a decision he thought he wouldn’t be doing that day, he really, really thought he had an ounce of self restraint until he gave up, and flipped the picture. “Fuck,” was the first thing that came out of his mouth when he saw you, he was fucking thankful the pictures couldn’t talk like portraits did. He continued to pump himself, panting as he started to thrust into his own hand instead. There was something about the movement of his hips that made it more real. He swallowed thickly as he stared at you, your dress rising ever so slightly as you twirled to see the castle behind you. It wasn’t even more than what he had seen when your skirt rode up, or what he had seen that day at the library but it was doing things to him regardless.

He grabbed a pillow and placed it in front of him, settling the picture over it carefully, still staring at your beautiful smile as he continued to thrust “so fucking gorgeous,” he whispered in between pants, she’s so bIoody stunning, how is it even possible?

His mind was filled with praises when he finally came, but he was so erratic, so sexdrunk that he didn’t even manage to catch his cum in his hand like he usually did, instead it spilled past his hands and onto the pillow he had placed in front of him, onto the photo.

When Remus managed to regain a little bit of himself and he noticed what had happened he panicked “What have I done?” he wondered as he pulled the picture up and attempted to clean the sticky hot liquid with the sleeves of his sweater –it was like he had forgotten he was a wizard altogether– but instead of helping it only spread out even more, now being all over your chest. And that, that sent another rush down his body, his gaze darkened as he stared, lips parted, not believing what was going on.

He looked down, the twitch on his cock hadn’t been his imagination, it had actually fucking happened “What the bIoody fuck!” he whispered as he went to pat himself again, he would be sore as fuck later that day, but he didn’t give a bIoody damn about it. Completely forgetting his initial worry, he went at it again, when he was done, he came even harder, over the picture again, but this time, it had been intentional. Something about ruining that dress made his brain tick. When he was done, he just let himself fall on the bed, face down, not caring to adjust his pants, only turning his pillow around so he wouldn’t be sleeping directly over his cum.

As he laid down face looking to the side, he pulled the picture from the side and stared at it, he was fucking spent, and yet he felt his cock twitch yet again as he saw your figure covered in his seed. You were fucking stunning in that dress. He fell asleep like that. Pillow with cum underneath, half-naked, and with your cum filled picture standing right next to his face.

When he woke up again, it was because he heard someone trying to open the door. He jolted awake, pulled his pants up and used his wand to clean the bottom of his pillow and some of his shirts, some of it was sticky, while other bits were just staining the sheets with a cloudy white stain. He pocketed the picture, the one he didn’t care to clean, and walked towards the door.

“Remus?” Sirius asked when he opened the door “Why weren’t you in class today?”

“I was feeling off,” Remus lied, standing right in front of Sirius and blocking his view of the bed. It was clean, really, but he had forgotten to undraw the curtains “Had a headache.”

“But we’re pretty far from that time of the month,” Sirius said casually, then he spotted the edge of the magazine under Peter’s bed, and Remus’ bed too, the one his friend had been so adamant to clock out of his view and he smiled “Should’ve told me,” he said with a smirk and pointed at the magazine “I’ve got better ones.”

Remus gasped “No I didn’t… I didn’t use that,” he shut his own mouth and cursed under his breath when he realized what he had involuntarily admitted to doing.

“No problem,” Sirius said with a smile “I was starting to worry about you and your obsessive little crush.” Remus gave him a reproachful look, Sirius just ignored it “She’s in the common room, you know? She was worried about you.”

“She was?”

“Said she was waiting for you at dinner,” Sirius responded with a shrug. Remus looked at his friend surprised and turned to the clock on the wall “It’s that fucking late?”

Sirius nodded, and smiled as he saw Remus walk past him and towards the door again “Go get her lover boy,” he said as he waved Remus goodbye with a smile.

That day, since you hadn’t seen him, you’d brought him food over, and the two of you had some snacks by the fire, you had leaned into him a little, craving his warmth since the night had gotten cold, even if it was already spring. He thought he’d be giving you your photograph back that day, but he just couldn’t, not while it was still stained with his cum, so the picture stayed. Safely in his pocket as you waved goodbye and walked up to your room with a soft smile on your face.

The picture had almost become part of his routine, whenever he was feeling too uneasy around you, or turned on for that matter, he sneaked to a private place in the castle and took matters into his own hands. At first, he was shameful for it, cheeks burning as he stared at you, but the more he did it, the less shame he felt.

Eventually though, he heard you talking to Marlene about having lost a photograph that you really liked, and that you would straight up kiss anyone who found it because you had to give it back to your mom, who said she’d get you a duplicate if you really wanted it.

Remus felt terrible, he’d been using the picture to wank while you had been looking for it because you had to give it back? That night, he shut his curtains, used muffliato all over and he did it one last time –technically a couple of them– and fell asleep staring at the picture, trying to memorize it completely, especially the dried blotches of cum and how they looked over you. Fucking pervert, he thought as he finally used his wand to clean it up, leaving it like brand new.

The next day, he approached you on your way to the library, “Hey little witch,” he said as he approached you.

You loved it when he called you names, it made you feel special. You turned around trying not to grin, which was almost your automatic reaction to hearing his voice “Hey Rem,” you responded with a smile.

“I’ve got something for you,” he said as he bit his bottom lip.

You gave him a surprised look and approached him “You do?” He nodded. “What is it?”

“I found something you were looking for,” he said as he pulled the picture from his pocket.

“Remus!” you said, not bothering to hide your excitement “You found my picture,” you smiled “I was worried it’d end up in the wrong hands…”

Remus averted your gaze, yeah like mine, he thought, but then turned to you with a smile, he decided to tease you “And where is my reward?” he asked with a cocky smile, you looked at him puzzled. “Didn’t you say you’d kiss whoever found it?”

You gave him a smile, not sure whether he was joking or not, but decided to oblige him, pulling him down by placing a hand on his shoulder and standing on your toes just a little before placing the smallest little peck to his cheeks “Thank you, my hero!” you said with a smile as you pulled away, a slight sarcastic tint to it.

All thought he’d asked for it, he was not expecting for you to actually go through with it. He coughed a bit and smiled, pointing at the picture as he tried to regain composure “the dress,” he said, “it looks really nice, you should wear it more often.”

And those words were all you needed for him to say, you knew you had a Hogsmade outing on the weekend, so no matter what, you’d have to find that dress. You had been rummaging through your bottomless trunk for at least an hour when Marlene finally turned to you, looking at the mess of scattered clothes all around, and noting your distressed little expression.

“What’s wrong darling, you lost something?” she asked.

“Sort of,” you said, “I’m looking for my dress.”

“Your dress? Which dress?” she asked.

You pulled the picture and handed it over to her. She took in her hands and gave you a low whistle “You look stunning, luv. Who do we want to impress?”

Your head snapped towards her with a small gasp “Impress!?”

Marlene just smiled “Come on,” she said, “you wouldn’t be looking for it so frantically if it wasn’t for the fact that you wanted to garner someone’s attention.” She sat on your bed and stared at you, head tilted “Is it Remus?” You flushed. “It is Remus!” she added excitedly.

You shook your head as you sighed, not bothering to hide it from her and nodded “he found the photo, he said the dress looked good on me.”

“Bet he did,” she said, diverted and leaned in closer to notice the slightly worn edges of the picture, she turned it around a couple of times before noticing a small rip. She shuddered and let the picture fall on the bed. Looking at you and the photo and then back at you with shock “How long did he have it?”

You shrugged in response, still dipping your head inside your trunk and pulling piece after piece of clothing “Not sure, he said he found it and brought it over.”

Marlene looked at you suspiciously, not daring to take the picture again, were you that naive? “How long was it lost?”

“‘Bout three weeks or so, I think…” you said as if it didn’t matter now that you knew where the picture was “fuck, it’s nowhere!” you whined as you continued to throw pieces of clothing behind you.

“Honey I think he…” she shut herself. And looked back at the pic, not taking in her hands again. She frowned, trying to decide whether to tell you or not.

“hmm?” you said, turning to her.

“I think you’ll look stunning in it,” she said, opting not to tell you “Come on, let me help,” she said as she stood up and walked beside you, helping you dig through the trunk until you found it. It was better if you didn’t know what he had been doing with that picture. All though, knowing you like she did, you might have been turned on by the idea anyway.

She was the one who found it, she stood with it and helped you carefully hang it on the bed as she used a steamer spell to get rid of the wrinkles. All the while you were using some levitating spells to put all the clothes back on the trunk. You’d told her you’d make sure to clean it up later.

The boys were already at “The Three Broomsticks” since they had promised to get in ahead of you to find a table. And you had promised Lily you’d go to the hair stylist with her. You weren’t there to get anything done, but somehow she convinced you to let them style your hair in a nice way. She thought a bit of extra magic would look really nice with your dress “So you can woe Remus.” she’d said. As Remus needed anything other than your sole existence to be wooed.

When you were both done, her red locks were perfectly done up and cut, your own hair styled in a way that you looked just like a princess, the two of you finally walked towards the spot you always shared with the boys. Marlene, and Mary were already there. Marlene was talking about Quidditch with James and they were waiting for you to ask you some things before the next match in a couple of weeks while Remus and Sirius were talking about something else.

Sirius was the one who spotted you come in through the door, and him being Sirius, whistled shamelessly, garnering the attention of every single person in the table, and even some from other people around them “Look at them go, you look stunning girls!”

Remus was about to reprimand Sirius for his crassness when he turned to see you. And when he noticed exactly what you were wearing, his mouth went dry, a rush of bIood going straight down his body. He never expected to actually see you in that dress in real life. To him, it was like a dream, a fantasy, but now it was real, and it made him grow pale, and hold his breath as you walked towards them and he saw the fabric ripple around you as you walked. Is that a– the dress has a leg slit?, he thought as he stared, swallowing hard and trying to snap himself out of the trance.

Marlene noticed, of course, she noticed. And she tried to hide a snicker, by drinking some water but ended up coughing instead. Remus, who had been sitting next to her, didn’t even notice, so she hit him lightly “asshole,” she said. He turned to her rather confused. “I almost choked?”

“Oh… really? Didn’t notice… want me to get you a napkin?” He asked politely, his eyes turning to her only briefly before going to you and then back and forth.

Marlene rolled her eyes “No need, ooze at your little witch instead.” She made sure to use the nickname he had given you in a rather mocking manner.

He snapped his head towards her now, paying full attention “I wasn’t– I mean I…”

Marlene just shook her head and stood up, a wicked little smile appearing on her lips as she grabbed your shoulders “Take my spot, will you?” She said with a smile “I’m going to the bathroom real quick, that way we don’t move everyone when I’m back.”

“You sure?” you asked, catching the fact that she had been sitting next to Remus.

“Positive,” she added with a smile as she basically pushed you next to Remus and took off. You turned to her with a reproachful stance but took a deep breath and turned your head back around, rising in your seat just a little bit as you tried to accommodate the dress. The slit and the harsh way in which she had pushed you inside the booth caused one side of the dress to dip behind your leg, exposing it completely.

Remus noticed, and his gaze lingered just for a little bit before turning towards the front, glaring holes at the napkin holder as he tried to both think of a naked Dumbledore to cool down and etch the curve of your legs in his brain for later use.

Sirius, the other person at the table who knew what was going on, was a nice enough friend to hand Remus a glass of cold water. When Marlene came back, she had brought over some Butterbeer for everyone, and Lily had stood up to ask for some snacks at the counter. Marlene had sat an awful lot closer to you than she needed when she came back, with one sole purpose, to press you into Remus.

“Sorry,” You said, looking up at him when the girl laughed and you ended up shoulder to shoulder.

He looked down at you, staring with the softness he always used on you and smiled “No problem darling.”

Marlene smiled, and when she saw Frank and Alice she called them over “Sit with us guys,” she said with a wicked smile. Alice gave her a look, knowing she was up to something just by looking at her expression. So even if she originally planned a date with just Frank, she decided to pull him along.

“I’ll go get a chair,” the boy said as he approached the table.

“Don’t be silly, we all fit in here,” Sirius said when he figured out what Marlene was doing, “I’ll just sit on Prongs’ lap,” He said before the two of them accommodated, allowing Lily and to move over and subsequently for Mary to do the same, successfully making enough space for Alice to sit in there.

Remus was throwing pleading looks at his friend when Mary spoke “Careful Lils, Sirius might steal your man.”

She chuckled, “he can keep him for all I care,” she joked, James pouted in response.

“I guess I can sit on Frank’s…” Alice started.

“Don’t be ridiculous luv!” Marlene said “You’re our guest,” she said, “(Y/N) can sit on Remus’ lap.” You threw her a look, and she just gave you an expectant smile.

“Well as long as it doesn’t bother you,” you said, turning to Remus who swallowed but shook his head. Sirius was holding his need to laugh when you kind of stood up and placed yourself over Remus’ lap. And he wanted to laugh because Remus’ face was just priceless. He had his eyes shut tight, and he might have also been holding his breath. Sirius just honestly hoped you didn’t find one of those surprises that Remus often had when you were around.

“So, what were you planning guys?” Lily asked as everyone started to get comfortable. Remus had placed his hands on the table, close enough to yours so they were brushing against each other, it made you feel butterflies.

“We were just going to have dinner and then walk around a little bit. Alice wanted to restock on her strawberry gum before going back too.”

“Yeah, we didn’t have any strong plans, what about you guys?” Alice added.

“Well Zonko’s is our mandatory spot, but we went there earlier,” Sirius responded as he pulled one of the breads from the center and split it in two, “Want some?” he asked looking at you and you nodded and handed it over, then he turned back to Alice.

You took a bit of your bread to bring it over to your mouth and turned back to them “Lils and I went to the hair salon.”

“So that’s why you both look so stunning,” Alice said, by then, Frank who had stood up earlier had brought back two other butterbeers, one for himself and the other for his fiancé.

You then turned to Remus, who you realized was grabbing onto the edge of the table “Are you okay?” you asked him, concerned. Freaking Marlene, she didn’t even consider Remus might be uncomfortable, you thought.

The boy looked at you, focusing like he had been thinking of something else and nodded “Yeah sorry, don’t know what to do with my hands,” he admitted, pulling them slightly from where they were brushing against yours.

You looked at him, and grabbed his hands in yours, pulling them towards your lap, not quite wrapping them around your waist, but almost “You can put them there, I don’t mind.”

Remus gulped but nodded. He could barely stop thinking at the way you felt pressed against him. Your legs on top of his were already enough to drive him crazy, but now his hands on top of your legs? He had to grab the butterbeer and bring it up to his lips to cool himself down again, drinking about half the bottle in one go.

You pulled another piece of bread to your mouth and realised he had been staring at your hands, mistakenly, you assumed it was because he was hungry, you grabbed another bit and hovered it just about his mouth “Want some?”

Remus just leaned in and took the piece you offered him munching on it as he tried to concentrate on the flavour. Other than the fact that he was struggling not to make it obvious how turned on he was, he thought the domesticity you were showing was overly nice.

But then you leaned in to grab another piece of bread from the far side of the table, and the smell of your hair got all the way to him, and then he looked at your soft smooth looking back that was a lot more exposed than normally and he fucked up.

When you leaned back in your place, you felt it. You almost gasped. But then realised that it must have been your imagination. Surely there was no way you leaning onto the table like that would garner such a reaction from him. Right?

Regardless, you were too curious to just let it slip by, so you repeated your action. This time you noticed his breath catch on his throat as he emitted the quietest little gasp you’d ever heard. And so when you went back to your spot, you just grabbed your bread and started munching on it as you tried to keep a straight, not completely surprised face.

You thought about not moving at all for a while, so Remus could sort out whatever was going on by himself. Really, it would have been the merciful thing to do. To freeze in your place, let him cool down and pretend it never happened. Unfortunately for him –or perhaps fortunately– you had never been merciful, not when you were playing quidditch, not when you were destroying your opponent in magic chess and you certainly wouldn’t start then.

Besides, if he really had been turned on by you and not by some other external factor, then you doing what you were about to do might have been all the proof you needed to know if Remus actually liked you back.

At first, you didn’t want to make it obvious. And pretended you hadn’t noticed his reaction to you, which had him relax, if ever so slightly. But then you leaned in again, this time to Lily, and you made a small little gesture with your hand to have her lean into you too, telling her something silly about the homework. Leaning back toward Remus and then repeating the same action while pretending you had forgotten to say something.

When you went back to your place, you pressed yourself against the boy a little harder, smiling when you realised that it must definitely have been you the one causing such a reaction in Moony. Your resolve only solidified when you felt his hands – which were still lying atop of your tights, ball into tight fists, his whole body tightening under you, in fact.

Still, the boy hadn’t noticed you were doing it on purpose and he hoped to the heavens you hadn’t noticed what was going on with him. The possibility that you thought what you were feeling was keys or something else in his pockets was at least comforting.

You smiled, almost wickedly as you thought of yet another excuse to roll your hips atop of his, “Please stop moving,” he whispered in your ears after he grabbed your arms and forced you to lean closer to him.

“Am I too heavy? Sorry…” You said aiming to stand up but going back down a second later, pretending it had been accidental. Remus cursed under his breath, feeling like shit for being so turned on over you… just existing.

“No, you– you were just squeezing my tight.” He said, voice rougher than usual.

You revelled in the reactions you were getting from him. “Oh sorry,” you said and rolled your hips to the side, his breath hitched in his throat, “This better?”

“I-“ he started, not quite being able to emit a full sentence.

You held a smile and tolled your hips to the other side “And this?” you asked, still in an innocent tone.

“fuck…”

You bit your lip to not smile, turning your body to him and leaning on one of his legs instead, placing your hand on his cheek “Are you okay?” you asked, fake concern laced in your words, he was too far gone to notice.

“Yeah, sorry I just, I feel like I should… Perhaps I can…”

“Want me to stand up?” You asked with a small pout “If I’m making you uncomfortable the just–”

“–No!” he said a little too suddenly, “I’m fine, you’re fine, everything’s fine.” At least with your ass pressed only to only one of his tights, he was starting to relax again. Even if the slit of your dress had repeated its action from earlier and had your leg a lot more exposed than before. He noticed, and you noticed he noticed.

And so, doing the boldest thing you had ever done in your life, you spread your legs open just a wee bit more, letting the slit fall further behind and letting your leg show just a tad more. Remus swallowed thickly as he stared “discreetly”, which just made your mouth dry.

You then turned back to the front, since Peter had arrived with the food, fish and chips and some other casual dishes. You moved yourself again, this time facing the front and pressing your ass straight to his crotch. You didn’t care for pretending anymore, you wanted to see how far you could push him, so you rolled your hips against him once. Leaned down for a fry and then rolled them again, two times this time.

Remus’ breath was heavy, he was looking at you in shock, at this point he was so hard there was no way you hadn’t noticed. He saw you lean forwards, your movement different from the first time you’d done it, you were perking your ass against him, and when you leaned back you rolled your hips three times, basically grinding onto him as you did.

That’s when he realised, and the next time you leaned for a chip, he pulled his hands from your lap and wrapped them around your hips tightly before pulling you back onto him, harshly, making sure to press you against him in a way that made you gasp in shock, he leaned onto your ear “Thought I wouldn’t notice little witch?” he whispered.

Your mouth went dry, you weren’t sure anything anyone had ever told you made you feel that turned on in your life. Still, you decided to continue playing your own little game “Whatever do you mean Rem?” you asked innocently, turning your head to him, feeling his hot breath against your cheek.

He chuckled, tightening his grip on your hips before pushing you down onto him again “Stop pretending, or this won’t stop till I’ve had my fill.”

Your eyes shone at the idea, you tried to roll your hips against his again but his grip was way too tight “Is that… a promise?”

Remus chuckled again before forcing your hips to roll against him again, pulling his head in a bit of an angle so he could whisper in your ear without anyone realising it, “It was a threat, but you can call it whatever you like sweetheart.”

You smiled wickedly “Then I still have no clue what you mean,” you replied with another of those innocent smiles of yours, while you pulled the dress a little bit higher.

Remus held back a groan as he looked at you, teasing him like you didn’t know any better. Like you didn’t know how many dreams of railing you in that dress he’d had in the past couple of weeks.

In the middle of your little rendezvous, Sirius noticed something was going on, it was in the way Remus was regarding you really, same stare the wolf used often, fucking famished. “Hey Moons! Didn’t you say you had to go to the castle early for that potions project of yours?” he asked, eyeing Marlene.

“Right, same one you’ve been working on, isn’t it darling? You should go together,” she said, turning to you.

Remus shot a small little sneaky smile at Padfoot and nodded “You’re right,” Remus said calmly “Both of you,” he said giving each of them a look, and then turned to you, “shall we go?”

You gulped, eyes as dark as his own “Yeah, we should.”

Frank, Marlene and Peter got off from the booth so you could both get out, you were the first one up and Remus followed, placing himself behind you so no one could see the tent in his pants, but also because he enjoyed pressing himself onto you a little too much.

You pulled your wallet and took out a couple of bills, “Remus’ is on me,” you said with a smile.

Sirius snickered when he thought, Well, he certainly will be. Which was rather similar to what Remus thought as his eyes darkened.

“If I help you with your homework will you also be paying for my butterbeer?” James teased.

You smiled “How many butterbeers do you owe me then Prongs?”

He gasped at your bold little response and you waved at everyone with a smile. Remus had placed his hand on your neck, Thumb brushing against your spine as he turned the both of you around and prompted you to move forward. Once outside you saw a small little alleyway that seemed just dark enough for the two of you “Remus, look–“

“Not there,” he said, “too dark.”

You turned to him a little surprised. “What? You want to do it out in the open then?”

He leaned over “Little witch, I haven’t been dreaming of you in that fucking dress for weeks so we end up fucking in a dark little corner where I won’t be able to see it properly.”

The shiver those words sent down your spine was unprecedented, that was until you realised exactly what he had said. Weeks? That must be a mistake. “Does that mean you had the photo for…”

“Yes, weeks,” he confirmed, not even caring to hide it anymore. “It’s clean now, don’t worry,” he added.

“What do you mean it’s…” the words died out in your mouth, you knew exactly what he meant “Remus!” you admonished, half shocked, half complaining, but totally turned on.

“Got a problem?! Don’t leave you’re fucking photos laying in the ground for anyone else to see.” He said, the fact that he was using such crass language, something he tended to avoid around you was proof enough of how out of control he was at the moment “Coud end in the wrong hands.”

You looked around “Where are you taking me?” you asked when you noticed you were walking towards the forest.

“To a place almost as beautiful as you,” he said simply. Your bIood rushed to your cheeks. Fucking Remus John Lupin, he had you and he had you bad, “you do trust me, right?” he added leaning into your ears.

This was definitely revenge for what you had done to him back at the pub. You somehow managed to nod and he smiled. The two of you walked along the forest for a couple of minutes, until you saw some light, the darkness and trees opened into a small circle, there were small floating pollen spores that you could only see when the sun hit them right, and the shadows the tall trees cast on the ground made the entire place look like it was something out of a fairy tale. Even the air… it smelled of magic. Perhaps the fairies would fly away scared after the two invaded their home, terrified of the debauchery that was about to occur… or perhaps they'd see the two of you together, looking so merry, that they would dance and party along with you, from their small little nooks hidden inside the roots of the trees.

The beauty of the place made you almost forget why you were there all together. Almost. Remus had brought you closer to him, wrapping his fingers around your waist and pressing himself onto you. He was still hard. It hadn’t been a long walk but you assumed that… Well, perhaps you didn’t know shit about male anatomy, let alone werewolf anatomy. You pressed your hips against him and he stifled a moan.

You turned around and placed your hand on his cheek again, echoing the action you had done at the pub, but this time using it to bring him down for a kiss. First, it was just a small little one on the side of his mouth, but as you were pulling away he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you back in.

It started slow, he started slow. Like he was savouring every inch of your lips before pressing his tongue against them, you let your own part, and the two of them started dancing against each other. You tried to deepen the kiss, to make it faster, but Remus was slow and steady and demanding. He was not about to let you rush him through this.

No, Remus Lupin had dreamed of this moment for way too fucking long to let you be fast and desperate about it. “Remus I…” you whined.

“Shhhh little witch…” he coed “We need to take our time, make sure you’re ready–“

“I am ready,” you said as you pulled his hand from your neck and dragged it towards your core, when his fingers brushed over your wet panties he could not stop the curse that slipped through his mouth.

“So fucking wet already. And just for the kissing–”

“No.”

“No?”

“It’s been like that since the pub.”

Remus chuckled, diverted at your boldness before he stared at you, at the dress again. Half of him wanted to rip it apart to see all of you, but the other one, the one that had made him fuck himself into his own hands so many times, wanted you to keep it on. He wanted to fuck you in that dress until it was filled with grass and dirt and cum. He wanted to fucking ruin you. You weren’t making it easy for him to hold back either.

You noticed the way he was staring and placed your hand on the back of the dress, starting to unzip it when he placed his hands over yours and dragged them away from it, pulling the zipper back up and whispering in your ear “Keep it on.” It wasn’t a question, it was a command.

“What? But… you won’t be able to– Will it be enough?”

Remus looked at you in disbelief, raising his eyebrows as he nodded towards the tent in his pants “More than fucking enough.” He pulled you back in towards him, gliding his hands down your tights and sliding one of them through the slit, “I didn’t know the dress had a slit when I was using it to get off,” he whispered, hot breath against your ear making you shiver, you were about to crumble onto him “I imagine I would have… let my imagination run wild with it.”

“Let your imagination run with it now,” you replied and pulled on his hair to bring him back to your mouth. He groaned at the harsh movement, and you almost fucking melted into him after he made that sound. “Remus! You’re too tall,” you complained in between kisses and you pressed your hands onto his shoulders to bring him further down. He smiled onto the kiss, but allowed you to push him down until you were both kneeling on the soft mossy grass. He was still too fucking tall “sit.”

“Sit?” he asked diverted, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

“Yes, sit,” you said again, pushing him on the chest just hard enough to have him tumble back, ass on the ground as he stared at you, amusement evident on his face. Of course, had Remus actually wanted to stay up, your small little blow to his chest wouldn’t have done shit, but he liked how desperate you were.

He looked up at you, still on your knees as you looked back at him, eyes blown with lust “I like it when you take charge like this,” he joked.

You scoffed diverted “Shut the fuck up Moony, I’ll–“

“Make me,” he interrupted you, brattily.

How many fucking romance novels had this boy read? “I’m sorry?”

He just smiled wider, he knew what he was doing. He knew exactly what he was doing to you and he was getting a kick out of it. “I said… make me.”

You wanted to scoff, but instead, you climbed on top of him pressing yourself against his cock and leaning in for a kiss, but not allowing your lips to touch. It’s what he wanted, really. You knew because you had probably read those same novels. Instead, you rocked your hips into his, and he gasped. Remus leaned in to kiss you but you pulled back and brushed your cheeks through his as you leaned over to whisper in his ear, rocking your hips against his once more before speaking “You were saying?”

His mouth went dry, he was not expecting so much push and pull with you, he almost always imagined you as a little bunny he would ruin, but it seemed like you were as much of a wolf as he was, which was somehow even better, hotter, it made his whole fucking body feel like it was on fire, which was exactly what you were feeling as you felt his crotch rub straight against your wet panties. The friction making you feel things you didn’t consider possible.

“Fuck,” he whispered, which only furthered your conviction “Darling if you-“ he groaned as you ground against him yet again “keep this up, I’m not gonna– not gonna last,” he somehow managed to get out.

“Then stop me,” you said with a wicked smile. Remus pulled you back, to stare at your face, you still had that expression and he quirked one of his eyebrows. “Must I repeat myself?”

Remus scoffed, biting his lips when he felt you roll your hips against his again, which got a hiss in return. When he was sure you were okay with it, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you back on his legs, just enough so you wouldn’t be able to continue grinding against his crotch. And then he lifted you up with remarkable ease before laying you on the mossy grass floor.

Your hair sprawled around your face, your cheeks were flushed and your eyes so blown with lust they almost looked black, he wasn’t sure you’d ever looked prettier in his life. He hovered over you and you opened your legs for him, pulling them up to try and chase his, but he pulled them back, you gave him a desperate pout. Which made you look even more adorable.

Remus placed one of his hands on your hips to hold them down and brought the other one to your legs, he was taking his sweet time as he brushed it over your leg, savouring the feeling of your soft skin against his hands, pressing lightly as he brushed over your calves and brushing your inner thigh with utmost care, you felt like you were at the common room all over again. The recurrent dream you had coming back to you in an instant.

“Remus,” you whined, as you tried to push your hips up only to be stopped by his dextrous hands. You heard him chuckle, voice hoarse still.

“Let me enjoy the view darling, you don’t know how pretty you look right now.”

“Well, enjoy while touching,” you said, pulling the dress as far as you could and placing your hand over the one on your hips to bring it down to your core.

There was no shame in your movements, there was no fear, you’d let him touch you wherever he wanted and that made Remus’ cock twitch in his pants “Perhaps you shouldn’t be putting so much trust in a wolf’s hands…” he said as he rubbed his thumb over your wet underwear. Failing to keep up his smug grin when he realised just how wetter you’d gotten them, the small little surprise eased a smile on his face. And since you were looking so attentively at it –at his beautiful, perfect, licentious face– you noticed.

Deciding to tease him further you rolled your hips against his thumb, feeling the way the rest of them pressed against the top of your slit, warm and kind, even as they pushed you back down again with relatively strong force “Maybe you’re just a sheep in a wolf’s skin,” you whispered breathlessly.

“Isn’t that saying meant to be the other way around?”

You started to laugh, easily being shut up by his thumb sliding to the side and back again, this time dipping inside your panties and rubbing through your hole “Shit,” you breathed.

Remus smiled, realising how much you whimpered when one of his scars brushed against your clit. He tortured you with it for a few seconds before he pressed his thumb against it, earning a gasp from you. “A sheep in a wolf’s skin, eh?” he asked as he loomed over you, one hand still on your clit and the other one to prompt himself up, looking at your elated little face, and the microexpressions you made whenever he did something right.

You managed to somehow regain back focus, just enough to smirk in between a moan, “just a sheep,” you repeated. And he inserted a digit against you. You gasped again.

But he was just as shocked as you were, “So tight,” he whispered, “It’s not going to fit…” he said more to himself. You pushed your hips against his finger, wanting to feel some fiction.

“It will,” you reassured “Please Remus…” you begged then.

He almost came there and then. You were pleading for him to continue, fucking pleading. He complied. He started moving his finger inside and out, careful and soft at first, like he didn’t want to hurt you, keeping his eyes trained on your face to make sure you were okay as he dug deeper inside you. Your face was dazed in pleasure, almost too far gone when you felt another finger.

You frowned, and he stopped moving “Hurts?” he asked concerned laced in his tone.

You took a deep breath “No… just, give me a second…” You said as you tried to adjust to the feeling. After just a couple more seconds, it was you who was pushing against his fingers. You hadn’t even realised when he had pulled his thumb and replaced it with his index and middle finger, but they were longer, and they reached places they hadn’t done before. You only figured it out when he started rubbing circles against your clit like he had done at first.

And you moaned his name as he picked up the pace. The pleasure was so big you didn’t even realize he was actually preparing you, slowly moving his fingers as he rubbed and trusted so he could stretch you out, so he could actually fuck you the way he wanted.

He reached a point you hadn’t even managed to reach yourself ever before and you bit your lips so hard you drew bIood, he figured it out in a second and continued to rub against the spot until he had you wrapping your hands around his tightly, he knew you were close, so he smiled and continued pumping even as you tried to reduce the friction, which had you coming undone after a couple of seconds. Your breath was ragged, your hands loosened as you lost yourself to the pleasure. He helped you down from your high, still pumping his fingers in and out, slower now, almost painfully slow.

When he finally stopped, he pulled them out slowly and then brought his fingers straight to his mouth, and the guttural moan that escaped his lips when he wrapped them around his fingers and tasted set you ablaze yet again. You reached your hand for his crotch and started grazing your delicate fingers against him. He was still looming over you, and you smiled when his stance faltered.

You went straight to the button of his dress pants, and then pulled the zipper down, pressing your hand over his briefs, and you finally understood why he thought it wasn’t going to fit. Your fault for falling in love with such a tall boy. You heard him whimper above you and it only made your resolve strengthen, you pulled your hands inside his briefs now. When he felt your hands around him, not his rough hands- but your soft, small hands, around him he crumbled into you, his face buried into the crook of your neck as you stroked him.

You were soft, and kind to him, at first… But you started picking up the pace when he pressed his mouth to your neck and started sucking against the soft skin, and against your collarbone, and then further enough to reach to the valley of your breasts. He looked up at you, lust filled his eyes as he leaned his cheek into your chest but he did nothing.

You were almost too far gone to realise he was asking for permission, but he used his mouth to nudge the string that tied the section that gave the “milkmaid dress” its name and you instantly understood what he wanted. You nodded and he used his mouth to pull the small little bow you had made earlier undone. Using the now-added space to trail his mouth to the valley of your breasts. You tightened the grip around him when you felt his hot breath against your nipples, and you did it again when you felt his mouth wrapped around one of them.

“fuck,” You whispered. He hummed in response, his own moans being drowned out by your soft skin, as he licked and sucked and nipped to his heart’s content. But then you did something that almost got him over the edge, and he bit your soft skin almost a little too hard. You had moved your hand up and had started to rub his tip. You might have known shit about male anatomy, but if books had taught you something, it was that, that was the most sensible part of a man’s cock. From his reaction, it was just the same for a werewolf.

“Okay, that’s enough!” he said roughly as he pulled your hand off him and pushed it over your head, taking the other one somewhere along the way and keeping them both in place with one of his own. He was still accommodating one of his hands to carefully hold both of yours down when you chased your hips against his. He gave you an impassive look and you just repeated the action again, a teasing smile dancing on your lips. He narrowed his eyes at you and you had the nerve to shrug innocently in response, or at least attempt a shrug, since both of your hands were still stretched over your head.

He chuckled at that, shaking his head as he used his free hands to tug your underwear down. The cold caused you to shiver, but it didn’t last long, he was already rubbing himself into your entrance. The feeling made you quaver, you were desperate to have him, but you also understood what he was doing. He was coating himself in your slick.

After a few more thrusts to your slick and he lined himself against your entrance. When he was ready, you pulled your hips up and his tip slewed over you and graced your already sensitive clit, you did it again, but then he pushed you down, hands digging into your flesh as he set your hips back on the grass, giving you a warning look.

You smiled teasingly and attempted to do it again, but his hands were digging against your pelvis and you barely managed to squirm under him, “please just fuck me,” you said with a pout.

“I was about to do that when you decided to tease,” he responded, a fake annoyance laced in his words. You let out a sigh but you felt him line against your entrance again. Your breath hitched in your throat and stopped squirming, allowing him to move his hand from your hips to guide himself inside.

He was slow and didn’t go all the way in at first, paying close attention to your face as he slid inside, breath heavy “You’re so fucking tight,” he whispered. You were panting as well, but managed to bring your hips up to help him bury more of himself inside you, he gasped, and dug his hands back on your hips, forcing you to still. Fucking Remus and his fucking werewolf strength, you thought as you attempted to writhe.

Remus was damn thankful he had played so many scenarios in his head as he touched himself, he wasn’t sure if he would have lasted half as long as he had if he hadn’t already pictured you in so many different ways. But even with so many, he hadn’t expected you to be so damn tight. When you kept squirming, he jerked forwards, dipping himself entirely inside you.

You moaned, your face in that mix of pleasure and pain he hadn’t yet managed to decipher “You okay?” he asked to your ear, his voice a mix between a whisper and a groan.

You nodded and clenched around him in response, he cursed under his breath. He wasn’t sure if he wasn’t moving because he was letting you adjust, or because he was trying not to instantly cum. You just felt so fucking good.

He could feel you breathing under him, your belly rising and falling almost alongside his, and he closed his eyes, just enjoying the feeling of being so close to you, so impossibly close. But you weren’t as patient. You hadn’t had as much practice with your own hand like he had, and you were desperate for him to move again. You tightened your muscles one more time. He cursed under his breath, and then you tried squirming under him.

“Please, little witch,” he begged, he wasn’t sure what exactly he was begging for, when his head decided to cooperate he managed to speak again, still in your ear “let me adjust.”

You squirmed under him again “adjust while fucking me.”

He bit his lip, pulled back slowly and thrusted back in with a lot more strength, you gasped, but relished on the feeling of him finally moving “Such a crass language my luv,” he said in between another of those harsh trusts. You were squirming under him again, this time it wasn’t on purpose. You pulled your hands under his sweater, you wanted to feel his skin.

He faltered at that, like it was a part of him he didn’t want you to see, let alone to feel, but when your fingers started brushing over one of his scars, in such a fucking adoring way, he couldn’t help but melt into you, he was sure he’d let you do whatever the hell you’d wanted to him.

You started bucking your hips against his, meeting his rhythm as best as you could, he was still being mindful of you as he continued his thrusts, too scared to hurt you. It was only when you fastened your pace that he did the same.

You whined his name, a little more desperate now, he knew you were close but he wasn’t sure the angle was enough for you, so he leaned closer “Would you,” thrust “mind it if I–” thrust “flipped you around?”

You wrapped your hands around his hair, letting them roam over him as you brought him over for a sloppy kiss, he instantly knew that was your answer. He took you out of him, you chased your hips back to his almost unwittingly, and you saw his resolve falter, but he got it back as quickly and used his strong hands to wrap them around your hips and flip you around. You had your face against the grass, turning your neck to try and see what he was doing when he took off his sweater.

He leaned over you, you could feel his cock pressed against your ass, but he was carefully bunching the soft fabric, raising your head with his hand and cautiously placing it under your head. Fucking sheep in the skin of a wolf, you thought, he’s too freaking kind.

You were still nursing that line of thought when you felt him thrust against you again, a lot harsher now, you straight up moaned at that, and he smiled as he continued his thrusts, in and out, until you were mindlessly pushing yourself against him again. You felt one of his hands slide in between your thighs, he started rubbing circles to your clit, repeatedly. You were losing yourself to him. To his hips thrusting into yours with a lot more force, to his heavy breaths and panting, to every moan and gasp and whimper and groan he emitted. They all sounded so beautiful to you.

He continued rubbing, he was determined to make you come at least a couple of times, he had come enough to your photo, he wanted to return the favour. He realised your hips were chasing his skin and he took off the soft cotton shirt he was still wearing when he leaned over and placed his hand around your waist, pulling you up to his chest.

You let your head fall against his shoulder as he continued thrusting, you weren’t sure you’d be able to form a coherent sentence even if you tried, so you just leaned in and placed sloppy kisses on his jaw, or to the section of it that you had access to now. He heard you moan when he quickened the pace of his hands on your clit, the other one still tightly around your ribs pushing you flush against him.

The feeling of his skin against your back was immeasurably perfect, you almost wished you could take off your dress to feel more of skin against you. You supposed it’d have to be for another time. You whined when he brought you to your climax yet again, the way your muscles clenched around him making him almost feral, he leaned in closer to you, “I’m going to…” he groaned into your ear.

“You can, inside if–“

“–No.”

“No?” you asked in confusion. He pulled you off of him and laid you back on the ground, still leaning over you when the first spurt of white warm liquid came out of his cock. You were still hazed, mind foggy and muddled from your orgasm but you realised what he wanted, and smiled reassuringly “It’s okay, I can buy another one.”

Remus groaned, letting his hand fall next to your head as he leaned in and continued to pump the rest of himself over you, over the dress. When he was finally done, he was so tired he wanted nothing more than to let himself fall over you, but he pulled back a little, still panting, but wanting to appreciate the mess he’d made.

You smiled at him, biting your lip, as you saw his lustful expression, your dress was coated in him, his sweat, and yours causing it to cling awkwardly to some part of your skin, but he absolutly loved it. He loved that he could practically smell himself on you, mixed in between the earthy and mossy aroma of the fores,t and the smell of sex. There was some cum near your breast, some over the left side of your waist, and some just over your entrance, that was still exposed to him. You looked even better covered with his cum than he imagined you would.

“Fucking gorgeous, wish I could take a picture,” he mumbled.

You smiled, pulling him to crash onto you, he complied, leaning his head against your chest like he had done earlier, you started brushing your fingers over his hair, especially the back of his scalp, he almost purred into your chest when you started scratching softly.

“You can keep one around the next time…” you whispered “but I’ll be taking some as well.”

He chuckled at your boldness, yet again. After what seemed like too little time but must have been close to an hour of the two of you just cuddling in the grass, you both knew you had to go back. So you stood up, Remus cleaned your dress with a swipe of his wand, almost lamenting the way his cum disappeared from it, but it had been pulled and dragged regardless. He wasn’t sure you’d be able to fix it.

“Here put this on,” He said, passing you his sweater over your arms.

You smiled as he bent back the sleeves to fit you better. And then he passed his fingers over your hair as if he was trying to make you look less sex drunk. You bit your lip “Do I not look like I’ve been railed to the heavens by a werewolf anymore?”

He chuckled, letting his hand linger on your cheek, “Thought I was a shep.”

“Hmm… You are, sometimes.” He smiled at your answer, and at your teasing smile. He stared at you for a second, he realised he was so unbearably in love with you it was absolutely insane. He wondered if you liked him a similar amount, judging by your reactions earlier, you might have.

When you leaned over to get your panties, which had been discarded somewhere over the grass, he beat you to it. You expected him to pass them over but instead, he pulled them to his face, giving them a sniff before placing them in his pocket. “Remus!” you admonished.

He shrugged, “It’s an exchange, you keep the sweater,” he responded with a rather dismissive wave of his hand.

“I never agreed to– bedsides, you're the one that ruined the dress!”

“And you’re the one that ruined the knickers, your point is?”

You scoffed, diverted at his answer and rushed towards him to try and get your underwear from his pocket but he veered off your grasp with ease, “Remus!” you said in between a snigger “You can’t expect me to go back to the castle all commando…”

He shrugged, “It'd be easier to go for another round if you did.”

You bit your lips in disbelief, and he wrapped his arms around yours, pulling you to start walking “Come on, hopefully, you’ll look less sex drunk by the time we’re back in the castle.”

“Speak for yourself,” you said as you pulled his jaw in between your hands to see his face better “You’re still all flushed.”

He shrugged “how could I not be? I have my arms around the prettiest little witch in the entire universe.”

You were sure you were the most flushed between the two after he said those words.

A/N: Did this one get out of hand in the length? Maybe... Do I love the final result? I definitely, definitely do. Remus and Reader's teasing and banter is my favourite thing ever. The Five Senses was born as a way for me to practice writing smut for my brand new Wolfstar x Reader series that's currently being posted on a weekly basis. If you have feedback, please leve it in the comment below. I absolutely love reading your comments <3

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