#popular chords

[joy-of-jamming]

Lesson 26 - Play 29 - Open Chords - D Major - Learn How to Play Guitar

[superfluouskeys]

i continue to be extremely normal about stray gods persephone

[watermelinoe]

isekai as a genre is so fun bc it's so self-aware and meta, the authors can just go hog-wild subverting all the tropes and by authors i mean women bc when men write isekai they just want their self-insert to fuck big tiddy elf girls

[askrossiel]

//Hmmm... I'm probably going to need to come up with a ship name for Goldie/Rossiel if I let that branch off into its own timeline.

[robertsbarbie]

the melody isn’t the same but Countru Music Made Me Do It by Carley Pearce sounds alarming similar subject and lyric wise to Alana Springsteen’s you don’t deserve a country song 😬

[horrorwebs]

i hate that its taking me so mich effort to learn how to play this fingerstyle song bc for someone whos been playing for like 6 years it should uhm. you know. it shouldnt be this hard

[akajustmerry]

I wanna say from very bottom of my heart that I deeply truly rabidly despise Taylor Swift and the glamorous black hole of immorality, gracelessness and lack of integrity she represents. I truly hate that I have to witness her 2-chord mediocre stream of consciousness high school ballads win the highest accolades in music. I hate how there's not a single discourse - from sports to fucking queer theory - that's free of her. I hate her white feminism, how she's never stood for a single thing that didn't ensure her wealth. I hate how she's credited and praised for things marginalised artists did before her. I hate how she latches onto new artists so they serve HER fame, like remoras to a shark. I hate her phony humble beginnings narrative that people parrot without acknowledging she's a nepo baby. I hate what she did to olivia rodrigo and how no one talks about it. I hate the waste her concerts, lifestyle, and merch create and that a young girl died from heat illness at her concert because the swift team prioritises exclusivity and profit over safety. I hate how she and her fandom popularised the idea that critiquing a woman = misogyny. I hate how she's in her mid 30s and still writes songs like she's a teenager and that songs written by a woman in her 30s acting like a teenager are inescapable. I hate she deliberately re-releases songs and records so other artists can't chart. I hate how she regularly and openly associates with bigoted people but somehow is always given the benefit of the doubt. Most of all I hate how she does and continues to do all of this and so much more and her fans will always have a, "but!" always have an, "anyway!". she's openly and uncritically supporting a presidential candidate who's administration is enacting genocide, but because she made a joke with her cats, we're meant to be like, "yay!" I truly despise Taylor Swift and the black hole of neoliberal white feminist mediocrity she is in popular culture.

[chlorinecake]

❝ MOLTO BELLA ❞ — P.JS

▹ PAIRING: soft dom! guitarist bf!jay x bratty switch! gf!reader

▹ WARNINGS: ⚠︎ BRAT TAMER JAY who puts you back in your place, f. masturbation, kind of giggly foreplay in the beginning, dry humping, titty play, finger sucking, hair pulling, rough unprotected sex in a hotel room (BACK SHOTS), cream pie, mentions of clubbing

▹ WORD COUNT: 2.1k, for @heeslomll on her lovely birthday... wishing you a very happy 19th, queen !! ♡♡♡

Just two days ago, Jay had whisked you away on a surprise getaway vacation, granting you both with a much-needed break from the hustle and bustle of your everyday lives…

Clubbing was a popular activity in the area, so like most guests at the Diamond Hotel, you and your boyfriend hit up an exotic club, where flashing lights, pounding music, overpriced drinks, and swirling bodies took over your sensual fields.

It wasn’t til around midnight once y’all had stumbled back to the hotel room, tiny giggles bumping from your tipsy body as Jay helped you undress, his touch gentle while guiding you into the warm bath he ran for you…

Oddly enough though, by time the following morning came, you couldn’t help but replay in your mind the way Jay’s veiny hands looked while carefully washing away the traces of last night's revelry from your skin…

The way his touch meticulously pampered you…

If you had had the energy for it last night, you’re sure you would’ve pulled his sexy ass into the tub with you, but that chance was over and done with now…

All you had currently was this king sized hotel bed all to yourself and your two, pathetic fingers that couldn’t make you feel good for shit…

And that’s when you heard it…

Jay’s skilled fingers faintly strumming a melody from his guitar… just from a few rooms away from you…

“Morning, beautiful,” Jay greeted upon hearing your bare footsteps enter the living room where he was busy working on chord progressions at the couch…

“Morning, daddy…” you returned playfully, catching on to the little smirk staining his face right away.

“Last night was fun…” you went on, almost mesmerized in the way his thick fingers traveled lower down the guitar neck, “didn’t know you could dance like that…”

“Yea?” He chuckled, eyeing you through his bangs as you paced around the table, “didn’t know you could drink like that, either…”

You let out a scoff at his comment, “Pleaseee, I was being quite conservative, actually… didn’t wanna make chaperoning too hard for you…”

“I'm sure I could handle it,” Jay replied in a slightly deeper voice this time, making your stomach flutter slightly at his words, “You hungry, party girl?”

“Not yet… I mostly just wanted to see why you left me all alone in bed this morning…”

Jay chuckled at your words, “Sorry about that, baby… I just wanted to practice this riff for a minute, but it doesn’t matter… you make sure my fingers get enough exercise anyways…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well… it means that I know you want something from me right now… with the way you’re pacing around… what is it, love?…”

You felt kinda bad for getting out of bed just in hopes that Jay would wanna fuck you, but tossing and turning on the sheets while thinking about his fingers inside you wasn’t any better either…

“Just wanna sit here, if that’s okay,” you sighed, eyes falling to his lap as he placed the guitar down beside him against the wall, leaning back on the couch a bit now so you could nestle yourself in his lap.

He gave his thighs a quick pat as you came over, straddling him now as he gave you a kiss under your ear, “Of course this is okay, princess… no need to be shy…”

You tried to ignore the feeling of Jay’s dick resting beneath your core, but couldn’t help yourself from grinding against it slightly.

And it didn’t take many words after that for your boyfriend to know exactly what you wanted from him now...

His hands fell to your hips while you kept humping against his lap, eyes wandering down to the way your nipples poked through your thin pajama shirt just as you asked if he wanted to touch them…

“Will you smack me again if I pinch them this time?”

You gasped at his words, feeling his grip on your thighs tighten as he smacked the flesh there, looking into your eyes now.

“You've helped me toughen up since then, baby,” you said with a heavy voice, “just need to feel your hands on me more than anything right now...”

“What's the magic word, love?”

You let out a sigh at his teasing, rolling your eyes as you said, “Please, Jay, would you play with my titties while I dry hump you like a virgin, pretty please?”

He chuckled at your words once again—

—with that attractive ass chuckle of his… not even hesitating to slide his hands under your shirt and start fondling with your boobs, lifting your shirt over one tit as he ran a thumb over your nipple…

He then leaned his head down to take a wet swipe with his warm tongue over your sensitive bud, sending shivers down your spine as you whined slightly.

“So needy this morning… was wondering what kept you in bed so long today…” he started with a tantalizing whisper.

“I had a dream about you… I tried to touch myself but—”

“It didn’t feel as good as this, huh?” He finished for you, rutting his hips up for a second as he tightening his grip on your tit, “already got you feeling sensitive and all your clothes are still on…”

All you did was moan at your boyfriend’s words, putting your hands at his shoulders just as his hands traveled lower, “can’t make myself cum without you anymore, Jay…”

“Then let me help you feel better, love… Do you like the way that sounds?…”

“Yes,” you nodded dumbly, letting him kiss you now as you still circled yourself in his lap, leaving a wet spot behind on his sweatpants.

He picked you up bridal style before taking you to the bedroom and placing you on the bed that still wasn’t made up after all your stirring this morning…

You already started to spread your legs for him as he stood before you, making him smirk at your neediness. “Would you close your legs for like, one second? I haven’t even pulled my dick out yet…”

“Well if it bothers you so much, why don’t you do something about it?”

He simply smiled at you again. Smugly this time, “Y’know, you say you’ve toughen up with me, but I bet you’d still start crying once I actually put you in your place…”

That’s when Jay took a hold of your hips, pulling you closer to where he stood with both your pelvises touching now.

“I’d say it’s worth a try,” you went on, looking back at him with blowjob eyes, “I always like it when you play rough with me, anyways…”

He trailed a finger from your knee, along your thigh, before finally reaching your pussy, where he tapped a finger at, knowing exactly where your clit was already given how many times he’s touched you before…

Circling your clothed clit, he applied a bit of pressure to the spot while holding your face to look at him, your tongue laving at his thumb as he toyed with your lower lip.

He felt himself twitch in his pants at the way you moaned against his finger, not wanting to waste anymore time before he said, “turn over for me, love…”

And you did just that, turning over on your stomach almost instantly, not even being able to process it when Jay swiftly pulled your shorts and panties down, the room’s cool air hitting your cunt.

You meant to say something bratty, but he interrupted your thoughts with a spank to your ass, not a painful one, but hard enough to get your attention…

To keep you in check…

“Tell me… how did I fuck you in your dream?”

“Like this,” you said plainly while poking your ass out for him, bumping against his bulge… “only difference is that you didn’t take as long to get started…”

“Oh? Well isn’t that nice,” Jay smirked, just as your ears caught on to the sound of him untying his pants and pulling them down.

You turned your head to look back for a second, quite obviously checking out his dick that you weren’t surprised to see was fully hard.

Catching onto your peeking, he pressed your face into the mattress, lining his tip up with your sopping hole before asking, “Was I rough, too?...”

You couldn’t even get an answer out before he pushed himself in, the sudden feeling of fullness making your torso tense with pleasure that traveled throughout your entire body.

“Don’t get shy on me again, baby,” Jay cooed, releasing the weight of his hand from your face slightly while keeping your shirt out of the way with his other hand, “I’m not even fully inside you, yet…”

He thrusted his hips into you again, pushing past your tightness as your walls hesitantly welcomed the rest of his length inside.

“Anggh,” you winced for a second, gripping at the sheets given the deep stretch.

He didn't care for your whining though, as he knew it was only gonna be a matter of time before you started begging him to go faster.

“J-Jay!” You cried out weakly, already too affected by his ministrations as you felt his tip reach amazing places inside you, his hand bunching up your hair as he kept your face meshed with the mattress.

“Jay, what?” He taunted in a voice so low, you felt it in your pussy, his free hand letting go of your shirt only to pin your hands behind your back, the sheets releasing from your grip with a loud pop.

“Y’know I can’t read your mind, princess…especially not when you’re going all dumb on my cock like this…”

He wasn’t going to ease up on you until you told him how you wanted him, even if your words would have to come out in tiny little hiccups and broken moans...

It was his way of teasing you… not because he was an asshole, but he knew deep down that you always enjoyed the sex better whenever he made you work for it a bit.

“I w-want it to hurt,” your voice managed to come out muffed against the sheets, eyes pricking with tears given his hold on your hair coupled with the way he kept fucking into your desperate cunt, “p-please keep f-fucking me like this...”

You almost couldn't believe you were falling apart so quickly, and neither could Jay, your knees hardly being able to stay straight given how hard he pounded into you.

Your boyfriend groaned deeply behind you, keeping your arms pinned as his hips pistoled into you at a rapid pace, your moans syncing up with each slap of skin, “you're driving me fucking crazy right now- fughhck, baby... feels so good inside you...”

It wasn't long before Jay's once controlled thrusts turned into much sloppier ones as you both drew closer to your highs, his grip on your hands releasing as he leaned over you, close enough to where he could kiss along your shoulders.

A small puddle of drool rested where your mouth was on the mattress, just as you felt his fingers tap at your cheek, making your teary eyes flutter back open.

He wanted you to look into his eyes for the last few moments he could last inside you, the tip of his cock pulsing with his heart beat as you felt his load filling you up.

A loud groan fell from his lips as he slowed down the movement of his hips, holding you down with his weight as your orgasm followed soon after his, body trembling given how powerful the sensation was.

You were a squirming mess beneath him, whining out desperate cries of him name as your walls pulsating around him like a drum, his lips finally meeting yours in a sweet kiss as you felt his length slip out of you, a string of slick connecting your bodies.

“How was that, princess?” Your boyfriend asked breathlessly, almost in a cooing manner as he brushed a bit of your hair out of the way, “feel any better now?…”

“Shut up, I feel amazing,” you said, giving him a knowing look with your eyes as your breath came out like a satisfied purr, his touch still tracing the side of your face as you looked back at him.

That's when you felt his tip sliding between your folds, making your legs feel wobbly all over again given how sensitive you still were.

“Think you got another one in you for me?” Jay asked, the head of his cock coming dangerously close to your hole now as he whispered against your neck, kissing the skin there.

Yes, you were already satisfied, but given the way he sweet-talked to you in this moment, you're sure another round wouldn't hurt.

⚠︎ Thank you all so much for reading this fic! Make sure you all wish this beautiful Italian princess a very happy birthday before the day is out, and check out my enhypen bookshelf if you’re interested in more works like this !!

⚠︎ tag list: @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @addictedtohobi @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @ot7sevenlvr

[kingdom-of-ire]

I'm the one playing the background music in this video. I did the drawing too

[joy-of-jamming]

Lesson 26 - Play 13 - Open Chords - D Major - Learn How to Play Guitar

[allurilove]

Yan! Prince x Siren you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Gore, murder, death, cannibalism?, physical violence, non-consensual touching, implied sexual exploitation, fem reader, and decapitation.

*This is just a fun short story I wrote for the class I am taking, and I just decided to upload it here! Some parts are influenced by the yandere fic I already made lol! This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: All you have known is peace, all until you get captured by a group of men that unlocks a different side to you. You then meet a prince, a prince driven with a bloodlust for power, and he gives you a proposition.

Men. All they do is bother you.

Your heart beats fast.

Your vision blurs as the familiar blues turn into browns, and your eyes fixate on the woodwork and rustic charm of what is considered to be a ship. The rope burns onto your skin, and your body contorts into an unnatural state as she is hoisted onto the boat.

Your tail thrashes and you try to bite your way out of the trap—teeth gnashing and chewing—and you cry out as youre is hit with a paddle. Your head starts to ring, and your eyes widen as you see the group of men in front of you.

Their garments are quite different from yours; in fact, they are fully dressed from head to toe. Their clothes are all dark, and their blouses have ruffles at the top. They wear boots, have swords at their sides, trench coats, and carry a heavy musk of sweat and battle.

With a sharp and intimidating blade, one of the men cuts through the net. Multiple hands grab for you, and your world comes to a pause as you panic. You feel like you can't breathe and your lungs are about to collapse. You scratch and attempt to plead with your captors, your nails digging into their forearms, drawing long red streaks.

But they do not listen.

“Mighty thang we got ‘ere!” one of the men says, his hair darkened by the rain peltering their bodies. He has a rough scar running down his face– a deep incision that caused his skin to never heal.

You can see a prominent and yellow snaggletooth whenever he speaks. He has an air of authority surrounding him, and his hat has gold embellishments compared to the regular silver everyone else has. That one particular man holds a predatory gaze, his eyes set ablaze with a whirlwind of mischief. “Tie her up, we could use a beaut like her on top of the mantle.” 

Laughter fills your ears as the group of men start to agree, and you feel a chill run down your spine as they touch your smooth cheek, their fingers trailing down to your jawline, and moving lower to your collarbones.

Each touch feels intrusive as they pet your silk-like hair condescendingly. “We could send her to the owner at The Pearl of the Eye; I know they are lookin’ for new girls to show off,” another says, his arms crossed as he leaned against the post.

“Aye, tha’ a popular place.” The man with the highest regard starts to pet his scruffy beard in thought. He then catches your withering glare, and a flash of amusement crosses his face. “Feisty one, aren’t ya? I know men who would pay a pretty coin for that temperament.”

“Keep it up, trollop.” he snickers, his finger moving to boop your nose. “You’ll make me thousands of gold in no time.”

Your pupils turn to slits as you bite down onto the man's finger, a metallic taste bursting into your mouth, satisfaction lingering on your tongue. His blood becomes sweet nectar, and with renewed strength and clarity, you unhinge your jaw and attempt to swallow the human whole.

Your hunger becomes endless, and a gnawing angry feeling grows into an insatiable appetite for flesh. For skin to be peeled off meat. For meat to be taken from bone, and their vocal chords to be a part of yours. Your body adjusts to the change, your throat expanding to the men’s silhouette as they traveled down your gullet. Their screams were words of encouragement, egging you to continue.

Humans, and men in particular, tasted different from the fish you were used to. They were heavier, harrier, bloodier, and infested with nasty ambition of lust and pride. You revel in the taste of their guilt, their fear, and the past memories of their wickedness. 

No matter how hard the group of men tried to band up and defeat the siren, their swords were no match for your unwavering hatred. You waste zero time to snap multiple necks, your teeth digging into any area that you could rip into shreds, and your stomach becomes full off of their disgustingly filthy urine soaked bodies.

One last man is standing, his eyes wide as saucers and his tears roll down his pale cheeks. He looks young and his uniform doesn't fit him properly. Your nails help your body to crawl towards the shaking figure, he can't even defend himself, and the weapon in his hand shakes. The wind continues to whip around them, the clouds darken as a loud cry comes from the sky, and an array of purple and dark blue strikes down on the earth. The boy yelps when you have an iron grip on his ankle. 

Unbeknownst to the siren, a smaller vessel has pulled up to the larger ship.

“I wouldn't touch him, if I were you.” The voice is cutthroat, a harsh demand that sends chills down the spine of the scariest and deadliest creature. You wince as you feel a sharp pain on your scalp, and your hair is now wrapped around a stranger's hand as they yank you back. You crash into a barrel filled with treasures as you are thrown across the ship, and a bunch of diamonds and pearls spill onto the floor. 

A tall and proud man stands in front of you, he has pitch black hair that flows in the wind, and his blue eyes shine like bright lights. The unknown man's presence is regal-like, his back straight like an arrow, and his face is trained with unusual niceties. Then the little boy ran into his embrace, and his arms wrapped around him tightly… all before the man pulls out a dagger from his sheath.

Without a single thought, a clean cut to the throat separated the head from the body, and the man’s lips stretched into a wide eerie smile. He isn't phased by the limp body falling to his feet and the blood spilling onto his perfect shoes.

“You… you are exactly what I need.” The man’s eyes are glued to yours and he stares down at you. “My name is Prince....” 

The prince that stands before you is practically last in line for the throne. That is what you could surmise from his little rant. He is sadly and disappointingly the second youngest, and he isn't close to the crown and title, at all.

He paced around, one hand on his heart, and the other continued to grip onto the hair of the decapitated head. “I need to be king. I am the only one fit to rule the land. It is like the gods have forsaken me, and they decided to punish me for no apparent reason.”  

The man huffs, his eyes narrowing. The waves crash against the sides of the boat, but he stands his ground. “Six siblings ahead of me, and one measly brother behind me– does that seem fair to you? That this kingdom will fall into the hands of dumb and dumber, and eventually to the offspring of the said dumb and dumber?!” His voice is so loud it even rivals the onslaught of thunder, and you can hear a hint of distraught on his otherwise clear and steady tone.

“This is where you come in.” He stops right in front of you. “I can keep you fed, and I can give you all the riches you could ever want. Marry me, carry my children and lineage, and get rid of all of my siblings.” The prince throws the head at your tail, and with a tilt of the ship, it slowly rolls towards you.

The boy's jaw is slack, a tooth chipped from the impact of the fall, and his blue eyes are wide open in fear. He has similar tiny freckles around his nose like the prince, the same facial structure with the high cheekbones, and a tall nose.  

“Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 

[halfmoonaria]

superstar

pairing: jenna ortega & reader

summary: you're a singer, and jenna thinks you're a superstar

word count: 1.6k

Jenna had always been adamant in interviews and podcasts that she wasn't looking for a partner.

The notion of opening herself up to someone, of sharing her most intimate and vulnerable sides, was terrifying to her.

She'd often say that the industry was already a whirlwind, and adding a relationship into the mix seemed like a recipe for disaster.

Her words resonated with a certain conviction, leaving fans and followers convinced that Jenna was dedicated solely to her career and personal growth.

Hence, when news broke that Jenna had met someone, the world was taken aback.

And her family, who had long accepted her stance on relationships, were particularly stunned.

What made it even more astonishing was that her partner was not just anyone but a singer. The very idea seemed to clash with everything Jenna had previously expressed.

If anyone had expected Jenna to find love, it would have been with someone far removed from the spotlight, someone who could offer a grounding presence amidst the chaos of fame.

Yet, there she was, completely enchanted by you, whose life was as much in the public eye as hers.

Your talent and passion had pierced through Jenna's carefully constructed walls, revealing a side of her that no one had ever seen.

It was an unexpected connection, but it was real, and it transformed Jenna in ways she had never imagined possible.

You were her age, having started singing at a tender age, your voice a gift that quickly became your solace.

From the early days of strumming a guitar in your bedroom to performing on small stages, your journey was one of both talent and resilience.

Your songs were deeply personal, often touching on themes of mental health, a reflection of your own struggles since your teenage years. The raw honesty in your lyrics resonated with many, turning your pain into a source of comfort for others.

Jenna admired you not just for your musical prowess but for your courage.

In a world where vulnerability was often masked, you stood as a beacon of authenticity. You spoke openly about your battles with anxiety and depression, both in your music and in interviews.

Your willingness to share your story in hopes of helping others, struck a chord with Jenna.

She saw in you a kindred spirit, someone who navigated the complexities of fame with a heart wide open, unafraid to show the scars that came with it.

The openness, the fearless confrontation of your inner demons, was what drew Jenna to you.

It was no surprise that the two of you had found each other, you were both well looking and had surprisingly more similarities than anybody would thought.

Your fame had skyrocketed over the years, just like hers had.

Sold-out arenas, chart-topping albums, and countless awards had become part of your daily reality.

You were recognized wherever you went, your face gracing the covers of magazines and your name trending on social media.

Just like Jenna; two of the biggest stars in the entertainment industry to end up together was something nobody had expected.

Despite your immense popularity, you remained grounded, always remembering the humble beginnings that shaped you.

The magnitude of your success was undeniable.

Fans across the globe found solace in your music, drawn to the sincerity of your lyrics and the powerful way you connected with your audience.

Your concerts were not just performances but communal experiences where people came together, united by the themes of your songs.

Interviews and talk shows frequently featured you, not only to discuss your latest projects but to delve into the deeper conversations about mental health that you championed.

Jenna couldn't help but be captivated by how you balanced the pressures of fame with an unwavering commitment.

It was this genuine openness, this ability to remain true to yourself amidst the chaos of fame, that drew Jenna to you like a magnet.

Despite your hectic schedules and the constant media attention, your relationship flourished in the quiet moments away from the spotlight.

There were times you often found yourself on set with her, quietly supporting her through long days of filming.

Whether it was bringing her coffee during early morning shoots or simply being there to listen during breaks, you made sure she knew you were always by her.

Likewise, Jenna joined you on tour, even if just few times. Those moments were rare but cherished, her presence bringing a sense of calm amidst the chaos of your busy life on the road.

She would watch from the wings as you performed, a proud smile on her face, supporting you in the way only she could.

At home, the connection between you two deepened in ways Jenna never had anticipated.

There were nights when she'd sit on the edge of the bed or curl up on the couch, watching you play your guitar and sing just for her.

The closeness of those moments, your voice soft and full of emotion, always sent a thrill through her.

More than once, she'd found herself unable to resist you, her desire building until she was straddling your lap, the vibrations of your music moving through her.

Which had ended up in her getting off on your thigh multiple times as you played, your voice serenading her into bliss.

Jenna loved you in a way she'd never loved anyone before. You were everything she didn't know she needed, the only person who truly understood her.

She often marveled at the thought that you were all hers, unable to fully grasp how someone as incredible as you had chosen her.

Whether you were strumming a guitar at home or belting out lyrics on stage, you captivated her completely.

You were the only one she wanted, the only one who made her feel this intensely.

When you performed was when all of those thoughts overflowed.

On stage, you were magnetic, your voice powerful and sultry, sending shivers down her spine. And when you danced, it was as if the music lived in your body, every movement fluid and mesmerizing.

Jenna couldn't take her eyes off you.

She adored the outfits you wore—revealing pieces that clung to your body, accentuating every curve.

She understood why you chose them; the heat from the lights and the crowd demanded something breathable, but there was no denying the allure they added to your presence.

She found your voice captivating, sexy almost, whether it was the soft croon she heard at home or the commanding, electrifying sound that filled arenas.

Each note you sang and every step you took drew her in deeper, reminding her that despite all the eyes on you, you were hers alone.

Jenna admired you fiercely. Every time she watched you perform, she fell a little more in love, unable to understand how she was lucky enough to have you.

The way you owned the stage, the way your voice and dancing wrapped around her heart, left her breathless.

She loved watching you perform. For reasons that went beyond the obvious.

It wasn't just for the music or the energy of the crowd. There was something deeper, more personal, in the way she observed you on stage.

How deeply you connected with your audience, but even more so by how much of yourself you gave in each performance.

She knew every movement, every note came from a place that only understood. And that knowledge made it all more thrilling.

But what really drove her wild was what came after.

The sex afterwards was incredible.

You'd come of stage, still pulsing with the energy of the performance, and she could feel the heat radiating off you.

The way you'd pull her close, your hands exploring as if you couldn't wait another second. Your touch demanding and urgent, made her knees weak.

Those nights, when you were still on fire from the adrenaline, were her favorite.

If something hadn't gone the way you wanted; a missed note, a technical glitch, or someone who'd pissed you off backstage — Jenna knew she was in for it.

You'd take that frustration and channel it directly into her, the way you'd push her against the wall, not wasting a second, your intensity making her shiver with anticipation.

She craved those moments, the way your hands would be rougher, your kisses hungrier. The way you'd take control, leaving her breathless and utterly consumed by you.

Jenna loved every second of it, the raw unapologetic need that you unleashed after a show.

It was the side of you that only she got to experience, and it was addictive.

After every show, after the adrenaline had faded and the passion between you two had cooled to a gentle warmth, it was the quiet moments that Jenna cherished the most.

Lying in bed together, your bodies tangled in the sheets, she would trace the lines of your face, marveling at how someone so fierce on stage could be so tender with her.

It was in those moments that she realized just how much she loved you—not just for the superstar the world saw, but for the person you were when it was just the two of you.

No matter how hectic your lives became, no matter the miles between sets and stages, the connection you shared remained unshakeable.

You both had your own worlds, your own battles to fight, but in each other, you found a refuge, a place where you could be completely yourselves.

And as she drifted off to sleep beside you, Jenna knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, nothing could change the way she felt.

You were a star, but more importantly, you were her star, and she wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.

[dollyyun]

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬' 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑.𝟏

SYNOPSIS: For some reason, Park Sunghoon utterly despises you ─ how you are the literal definition of a good girl who avoids all sorts of troubles, how you remain loyal and abide by the rules, how you dress modestly, the fact that you're best friends with the popular girls who are his kind of girls, the way your eyes sparkle with fascination, and the dimples on your cheeks whenever you smile or laugh ─ you are every bit of a girl he has no desire to fuck. However, being naturally competitive even against his best friends, he is determined to be the one to break you, poison you with his corruptive ways, and change you for the worse.

PAIRING: park sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE: 18+ (mdni), college au, semi-adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.

WORD COUNT: 11k+

WARNINGS: mentions of christianity, smoking, alcohol consumption, mild bullying, assault, humiliation, profanities, manipulation, possible violence, tsundere!hoon, smut.

PLAYLIST: Six Feet Under - The Weeknd, Heartless - The Weeknd, Reminder - The Weeknd, Lost in the Fire - The Weeknd, get him back! - Olivia Rodrigo,think later - Tate Mcrae, Swim - Chase Atlantic, Devillish - Chase Atlantic, Soaked - Shy Smith, Swimming Pools - Lloyd, Where Them Girls At - David Guetta ft Nicki Minaj, Agora Hills - Doja Cat.

PREV (PART 2) | NEXT (PART 3.2) ✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘

✧*̥˚ SUNGHOON'S MOODBOARD *̥˚✧

It is getting rather irksome at this point. The stark image of your glistening eyes as they brimmed with tears and the distinct heartbreak contorted in your face remain unabating in his mind, as though to taunt him and evoke a sympathetic chord in him, which is nearly impossible because he is not a man of deep benevolence.

If anything, the sight of you in tears should have gladdened his tainted heart. He should be deriving great delight from your unveiling woe, but instead, a certain chord that feels foreign strikes him in the chest, and he doesn’t like it. Not one bit.

Park Sunghoon despises you.

No, you didn’t commit any wrongdoing towards him. He simply hates you and your whole being. Even the mere glimpse of your face is enough to kindle the burning hatred he has always harboured for you.

Sunghoon can’t exactly pinpoint the very moment he started hating you, but it was around the first half of the semester during freshman year.

Initially, you were a nobody ─ just a girl who managed to enrol in this prestigious university thanks to scholarships. You’re not a Chaebol like him or like most of the student body here. Usually, a student like yours with no status rank or whatsoever would be an easy target for the delinquents to tyranny with their corruptive tendencies and, essentially, to bully.

However, unlike the other delinquents, Sunghoon didn’t want to squander his time tyrannising students like you. He really couldn’t care less since, at that point in time, he was busy targeting and luring girls to his bed, since he used to be a fuckboy after all.

Truth be told, Sunghoon didn’t know of your existence in this school until one day, when your name reached his ears from the nebby peers of his. Words spread throughout campus like wildfire within one day ─ about you being a devoted Catholic girl, the professor's pet, and other things that were rather unpleasant from the mouths of his peers.

Sunghoon really didn’t want to get caught up by the tattles, but his interest piqued when a specific yet cliché moniker was accorded to you by most of the student body.

Crestview Meadow’s official good girl ─ Y/N Kang.

Hence, from there, you earned quite a reputation amongst the Crescents here. But Sunghoon firmly believed that the only reason you had a reputation was solely because of the it girls of Crestview Meadows ─ the very same girls are actually his kind of girls to be associated with, whereas you are every bit of a girl he has no desire to fuck.

Sunghoon thought that you didn’t deserve to have a reputation, albeit your reputation was meant to be disreputed, considering almost everyone dislikes you except the it girls, three of whom are your best friends and roommates, all because you’re the epitome of a good girl, a good daughter, and the ideal student that professors prefer to teach.

Oh, how he hates the way your eyes sparkle with fascination and your animated face that displays dimples on your cheeks whenever you smile or laugh, and even the sound of your laughter and chuckles irks him greatly. He also finds you tedious with how you are known to be loyal and often abide by the rules, and with how you dress so modestly that even your shortest skirt length reaches approximately four inches from your knee.

Not to forget the annoying satin bow piece that you often tie your hair in a half-up-do with and your thigh-high socks clad, as though you are gatekeeping your long porcelain legs from any prying eyes, since after all, you gain negative attention to your thick thighs.

Getting a little sidetracked, his mind briefly drifts to the plush of your thighs. No doubt, anyone who meets you for the first time will notice your thighs at first glance. His pulse starts to drum in his ears the longer the image of your thighs, which he finally saw how smooth and flawless your skin was on Devil’s Night, remains abating in his mind.

Fuck, even to this day, he still can’t remove another image of you in that skimpy, tight dress from his mind. He ignores the way his dick twitches as he subconsciously fantasises about you ─ his nails digging into the plush as he holds your thighs, his hand moving to your neck and giving it a good squeeze while he fucks his hatred into you.

A muscle pulses in his jaw before his hand reaches out to snatch the bottle from his best friend’s grasp and pours himself another glass of Bourbon, in dire need to drown his amorous thoughts about you. He disregards his best friends’ collective odd expressions that are directed at him by the table.

Sunghoon finds the whole concept of you being the renowned good girl on campus utterly absurd. There is no fucking way that you are entirely pure. Surely, beneath that pristine facade of yours is someone who is waiting for the right moment to spread her legs for anyone to give her a good fuck just like the other girls he had slept with, and he intends to bring the slut out of you and prove that you’re not the saint you thought you were.

“Ignore him. He’s spacing out as usual.” Jay’s annoying remark, which is obviously targeted at Sunghoon, causes the latter to roll his eyes before he takes another sip of his Bourbon. “He probably wasn’t listening to what we were saying.”

“I know that you were talking shit about me.” Sunghoon scoffs, shifting his gaze to his best friends, who are settled around the table. “A guy can multitask, ya know?”

“So how was it?” Heeseung shoots his inquiry to Jake, intervening between the two Parks before they can bicker as usual, which is the norm for the group.

“How was what?” Sunghoon raises his eyebrow inquisitively, now directing his full attention to them.

“About Y/N, of course.” Heeseung answers, his face remaining calm and collected, whereas Sunghoon internally groans at the mere mention of your name, which has his mind drifting back to the image of you in that white fucking skimpy dress out of all of the images of you.

Sunghoon’s steely gaze settles on Jake, who is seated directly across from him, and when their eyes meet fleetingly, Sunghoon finds it hard to decipher the sentiment reflecting in his eyes. As always, Jake is hard to read and predict, despite them being close enough to regard each other as brothers.

To anyone outside of their inner circle, they perceive Jake as the most amiable out of the four leaders, with a kind and sweet disposition despite his playboy tendencies. But to Sunghoon, as well as those who are much closer to Jake, only they know the real Sim Jaeyun is the total opposite of the frontage he displays in everyone else’s eyes, or at least Sunghoon presumes since he can never interpret his best friend.

Sunghoon recalls a certain period of time where Jake completely ghosted all of them and didn’t give them any explanation or whatsoever; he simply left them hanging and wondering what they did wrong until Jay was determined to knock some senses into Jake, which led to a nasty brawl between the two, but in the end, all was well.

“Yeah, was it any good?” Jay leans his body forward, his keen interest is evident by the grin on his lips, eliciting a scoff from Sunghoonn before the latter downs the remnants of the bourbon.

Sunghoon raises his eyebrow just slightly at the smirk tugging at Jake’s lips while something dark glints in the latter’s eyes. “Too good. Even better than I expected.” Jake finally puts an end to their curiosity. His smirk deepens as he brings the glass of Bourbon near to his lips. “She’s adorably loud, by the way.”

“Fuck you, man.” Jay groans loudly as he leans back against his seat, annoyance tinges in his face while he takes a drag of smoke from his vape before puffing it out. “Seriously, screw off, Jake. I wanted to get to her first since I’ve never fucked a virgin before.”

“She’s truly exquisite. Sweet angel took me like a champ.” Jake is obviously taunting Jay, as evident in the dark mischief dancing in his eyes. “I’m betting on my Chevrolet that you can’t make her cum more than I did.”

Jake’s goading appears to have affected Jay, as the latter seems exasperated. Jay turns his attention to Heeseung, his steely eyes hardening with resoluteness. “I call the next fuck. It’s my turn to prey on her.”

Amidst the R&B music that is playing in the background as it bounces off the walls of the bar, Heeseung’s silence is resounding, directing their attention to him. An inexplicable emotion paints across his features. “I’m not sure about that, Jay. I don’t think she would want to lower her guards around us anymore, especially after a certain someone decided to act like a dick towards her earlier on campus.”

Sunghoon watches with curious eyes as Heeseung turns his head to Jake, his gaze sharper than usual. “Apparently, Beomgyu informed me what you did and said something to her that made her cry.”

Something flickers past Sunghoon’s gaze. So your tears were because of Jake, but it is rather peculiar, especially since Sunghoon long had an inkling that you might like Jake better than the other knights, so he presumed that it would take Jake a shorter time to achieve his goal without any issues.

Although the smirk on Jake’s lips persists, Sunghoon is surprisingly able to read through him and notice the deflation. “So what?” He asks gruffly. “I already did my part, so why are you annoyed by the fact that I made her cry?”

“Because you were supposed to bring her closer to us, dumbass.” Jay shoots Jake a scowl, blowing out another puff of smoke. “Just great! The more reason for her to avoid any of us now!”

“Why did you do it?” Heeseung presses on the matter, but all the while he remains calmly collected, eliciting a subtle grimace from Sunghoon since the latter knows well that what frontage Heeseung displays doesn’t always match the inexplicable storms within him.

Sunghoon shivers lightly. It’s always the quiet and stealthy ones who turn out to be the scariest motherfuckers.

Jake’s chiselled jaw is locked as he averts his gaze. “I had to. Besides, she wouldn’t bat an eye at me since it’s one of your turns to take charge now.”

“Jake, getting her closer to us is crucial, remember?” Heeseung heaves a sigh, his hand brushing away his magenta-red locks. “This isn’t the first time you love-bombed and ghosted a girl. I don’t know what your issue is, but you really need to sort your shit out.”

“Don’t tell me to sort out my shit when you don’t know what I’m dealing with.” Jake snaps at Heeseung, a rare occurrence that has the two Parks widening their eyes, thunderstruck.

They know that Heeseung is Jake’s most favourite person, and this is not to say that the latter isn’t close to the two Parks, but they have a special bond that is inexplicable to them, so Jake rarely gets angry at Heeseung.

Heeseung narrows his eyes at him, darkness glinting in his eyes dangerously. “Then tell me. What is going on with you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. You wouldn’t understand.” Jake murmurs the last part, but Sunghoon is the only one who catches on to the dejection in his tone.

“Anyway,” Jay raises his voice just slightly, drawing their attention. “We’re seriously getting sidetracked here. Who will be going after her next? Unless there is any objection, I’ll go next.” An anticipating grin smears across his pink lips.

“Nahhh, I don’t think so,” Sunghoon objects, a cold smirk touching his lips. “because I’ll be going for her next instead, and shut your mouth, Jay. You’re not getting to her until after I’m done.”

The three of them, completely bewildered, stare at Sunghoon as though he were an alien. They know that Park Sunghoon feels disdainful towards you for some reason, so they never anticipated his assertion to go next. However, they had momentarily forgotten that Sunghoon is naturally competitive, even against his best friends.

On the other hand, while he has been silent, a newfound resolve that dawned on him felt profound, and so he is driven by the same resolve, determined to be the one to fully break you on the inside, ascending his corruption upon you, and if his luck is strong enough, to change you for the worse.

“That’s settled, then.” Heeseung concludes while dissatisfactory gleams in Jay’s eyes, but the latter doesn’t make any objection. Heeseung meets Sunghoon’s gaze. “Do you think you’ll succeed? Considering you hate her, it'll be harder for you to prey on her.”

“When have I ever failed at anything?” A cocky smirk tugs at Sunghoon’s lips. “Best believe that when I’m done with her, she’ll be pliant and all yours to deal with.”

The soft luminesce of the moonlight streams into your window, painting delicate tapestries weaving across the ceiling while you wallow in despondency in the confines of your room as you lay limbs-sprawling on the bed. A rare bleakness shrouds the heartbreak in your eyes as they stare numbly at the ceiling.

The red rims of your eyes are fading, but they are still noticeable enough for your best friends to catch on to the fact that you have been crying. Although you doubt that they would care enough, considering the last argument you had with them and the fact that they did warn you, you didn’t want any of them to see you in this state.

Your phone buzzes in silence as it vibrates on your bed, but you choose to ignore whoever is calling or has sent you another text, most likely Winter and Kazuha, since you accidentally bumped into them just yesterday while you were still in tears. You ran before they even had the opportunity to speak to you.

The image of Jake and that girl is not something that can be erased so easily from your mind. Sure, you were slightly heartbroken when you found out Jake was a womaniser during the period you had a crush on him, but this is different. The heartbreak feels so profound that, despite the air of despondency hanging heavily around you, a part of you feels vehement enough to get even.

The thought of revenge entices you, wanting to get even by doing the same thing he did to you, but you shake away that ill-intent of retaliating. No, you can’t behave indecently again, especially after going to the church to confess your sins and be pardoned earlier in the morning. Besides, Jake even told you that you were delusional, so he probably wouldn’t get the slightest jealous if another man touched you intimately the way he did before.

A knock pulls you away from your muddling thoughts before the door slowly pushes open. Remaining motionless on your bed, you lazily turn your head to the side and meet Karina’s eyes, softening with concern.

“Hey, I heard from Winter and Kazuha that you were found crying yesterday.” Karina treads carefully with her words as her sharp eyes examine you. “What happened?”

It touches you that Karina even bothered to check in on you, despite the irony that she hated you in the beginning. Your heart aches at the thought of Wonyoung and Yunjin, already regretting your actions and missing them.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You murmur in a plea, your eyes stinging with dryness after shedding tears almost the whole night.

“Okay, I won’t pressure you. Just come out and eat something, please.” Karina’s gentle voice compels you to heed her words, and when she extends her hand towards you, you stare at it for a good minute before accepting her assistance in rising from the bed.

“Are Wonyoung and Yunjin around?” You ask tentatively as Karina proceeds to drag you and her out of your room.

“No. They’re busy with their boyfriends or whatever.” Karina mutters under her breath, and like a mother tending to her child, she instructs you to sit on the high stool by the kitchen island while she serves the food she bought for you.

“Thank you.” You say softly when she places the bowl on the table in front of you. The gratitude feels like a lump in your throat as you get a little emotional with her mere act of kindness for thinking about you even after you had been eccentric towards her.

Karina watches you in silence as she takes sips of her smoothie. “You know, I’m not mad at you.”

You lower your spoon to the bowl, and your face contorts into confusion. “You’re not?”

“I mean, sure, I was annoyed at first, but I could never be mad at you.” Karina gives you a small smile that sends a wave of assurance to you. “You’re a grown woman, Y/N, and it’s about time the girls and I stop babying you. Besides, who am I to dictate and judge you when I have my fair share of questionable decisions I made in the past?”

A moment of clarity dawns on you, and you have a sudden urge to confide in her, which you rarely do. Tucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you contemplate hard and fast while the steaming bowl of porridge is forgotten by you.

“There was a reason why I allowed myself to get close to him, because I had a crush on Jaeyun when we were freshmen.” You start off, your eyes flickering to the interest in her eyes that encourages you to continue, and this time, your voice remains unwavering. “Of course, who wouldn’t be over the moon that their ex-crush finally noticed them and was brought to bed by the said crush?” You chuckle dryly. “But what broke my heart was the fact that he ghosted me the next day when we spent the whole night talking and flirting over the phone, and he even called me his girl.” You whimper out the last part.

Karina’s tongue hits the roof of her mouth. “Fucking hell, Jake Sim.”

You bury your face in your palms, trying your utmost to suppress the tumultuous emotions that storm within you. “I found him with a girl on his lap, and they were making out. Of course, I confronted him, and he told me I was delusional to think that I meant something to him just because we slept together.” Your lips quiver in sadness while tears sting in your eyes.

A loud thud of a palm hitting the table startles you, prompting you to look up, and your eyes widen at the sight of Karina’s glaring anger. “That’s it. I’m about to murder a man. There is no way fucking way he love-bombed my best friend and got together with some girl afterwards. He’s about to get a taste of my fist.”

You lean forward to grab her hand on the table before she can even move. “Karina, don’t.” You plead, squeezing her hand. “I don’t want to be the reason why you get into trouble. What’s done is done. I should move on from this ridiculous heartbreak of mine.”

Karina’s eyes soften at the sight of your glistening eyes and wavering voice, but the resentment persists within her. “What about revenge?”

You deflate slightly. “Revenge?”

“Yeah. I mean, don’t you want to get him back? Make him jealous?” Karina probes, her eyebrow arched inquisitively. “Come on, Y/N. He deserves it after what he did to you.”

Her words are starting to get to you, enticing you, but you shake your head, knowing that it would be rendered useless to seek revenge against the same guy who told you that you’re delusional. “Trust me, Rina, he wouldn’t get jealous. He has other girls to keep him occupied.”

“You may never know, Y/N. There is a chance that he’s dismissing his feelings for you, but at the moment he sees you with another guy, then maybe jealousy will strike him, so he’ll have no choice but to push his ego aside and grovel to win over your heart.”

“Rina, you watched way too many romance dramas.” You roll your eyes, chuckling lightly.

“It’s a maybe, but it won’t hurt to try, right?” Karina casts you a grin, sweet mischief glinting in her eyes. “What do you say, Y/N? You’re up for some sweet revenge?”

Knowing that Karina won’t stop until you cave in, you release a reluctant sigh. “Fine.”

“Perfect.” Karina smiles gleefully. “There will be a pool party happening at the resort chalet owned by Yeonjun’s family tomorrow night exclusively for the seniors, so it’s a perfect opportunity for you to find some guy who is willing to play along.”

“A pool party?” You frown. “I don’t know, Rina. What if Jaeyun won’t be present and all of those efforts for my petty revenge go to vain?”

“Trust me. He will be there,” Karina rises from the stool to walk over to you and grabs your hand, leaving you no choice but to allow her to drag you in the direction of her room. “and when he finally sees you in the gorgeous two-piece bikini, he’ll be regretful for letting you go.”

“Bikini?!” You shriek, mortified by the thought of every inch of your skin blatantly displayed for anyone to feast their eyes on. “Look, I’m fine with revenge, but to wear a bikini?!”

“Don’t be dramatic, Y/N.” Karina rolls her eyes, finally arriving in her room. You watch, flabbergasted, as she proceeds to rummage through her wardrobe drawer. “Your body is to die for. No more gatekeeping your curves. It’s about time that you flaunt them and prove to everyone that the renowned Crescents' good girl has a killer body.”

You turn your head to the side, looking at your whole reflection in the vanity mirror. You swallow hard as you reach up for your silver cross pendant to fiddle with it, as though you are silently pleading for forgiveness once more.

“What’s your favourite colour again?” Karina asks without looking over her shoulder.

You contemplate between white and pink. “Pink.”

Karina goes silent briefly before she gasps and lifts the bikini. “This will definitely look good on you.”

You stare at the dusty pink bikini in dubiety, and although you already feel revolted by the indecorous image of you in that bikini, you can’t deny that it looks cute. “I’m totally going to regret this.” You mutter under your breath, hoping that Karina won’t catch on to your words.

But the cheshire grin smearing across her lips says otherwise. “I have a feeling that you’ll be thanking me instead. Now, get dressed.”

Your face contorts into confusion. “Where are we even going at this hour?”

Karina points her acrylic index finger at you. “You, my girl, will be accompanying me to the bar. It’s clear that you and I need some drinks. Plus, some of our girls will be there.”

“You know that I don’t drink.” You strongly oppose.

“Too late. You’ve already broken one of your codes when you drank some on Devil’s Night.” Karina states, and upon seeing the grimace on your face, she releases a sigh. “Drinking some won’t kill you.”

“Yeah, but drinking some will eventually turn into drinking excessively, which will essentially kill you.” You say dryly.

Karina makes a hand gesture of 'shooing’ you. “Don’t get all smart on me now, Missy. Now go and get dressed, or do you need me to drag your ass back to your room and clothe you instead?”

In return, you make a face at her before departing from her room.

Karina ended up lending you her garments since, according to her, you really needed a wardrobe makeover. Surprisingly, the low-waisted denim jeans fit you perfectly, but you have yet to grow accustomed to the skin of your stomach being displayed due to the white crop top tee and denim jacket hugging your figure.

The moment you and Karina entered the bar ─  the very same bar where you once came across the seven delinquents ─ Winter, Kazuha, and Rei spotted both of you and were shocked by your new look, but nevertheless, they showered you with compliments and gushed over you while shyness coloured your cheeks.

“Don’t look now, but the four leaders are just across the bar.” Rei's hushed tone garners all of your attention as the five of you are seated on the high stools by the bar.

Your body goes frigid just as you are about to take your second sip of the cocktail. You don’t miss the way Winter, Kazuha, and Karina collectively spare glances at you. Just before the five of you decided to order your drinks, Winter and Kazuha were adamant about getting the truth out of you — the reason why you were crying yesterday while Rei was utterly lost.

And so, you had no choice but to reveal the truth. The revelation rendered them shocked and angered, but none was more shocked than Rei, since she was always in her own little world. You did make them pinky promises with you that not a single word about the revelation goes out to others.

Karina hums, her hand leisurely moves her half-empty glass of drink in circles while her sharp eyes are trained on a certain someone. “What do you girls think? Should I head over to their table and give Jake Sim a good punch or two?”

“Hell yeah!” Winter and Kazuha agree earnestly as they high-five each other.

“No, please no.” You discourage them, groaning as you do. “Don’t cause a commotion in the bar.”

“Come on, Y/N.” Winter whines at you. “He deserves at least a punch!”

“As much as I would love to see that happening, I have to head outside to answer a call.” Rei interjects before she excuses herself from the bar.

“Please.” You plead once more, giving Karina your sparkly doe eyes that you know she will have a hard time resisting. “I’m perfectly fine now. Besides, sweet revenge tomorrow, remember?”

Karina eventually concedes as she heaves a sigh. “Fine. Just be sure to make him really jealous.” She throws her head to the back as she downs the rest of her vodka before placing the glass on the table. “Anyone wants to join me in playing the game of pool?”

“Loser will be drinking the nastiest drink ever made?” Kazuha shoots Karina a smirk, to which the latter reciprocates. The two of them proceed to make their way to the pool as they venture further into the establishment, leaving you with Winter.

“So….” The awkwardness is palpable in her. Her fingers drum lightly on the countertop. “You’re no longer mad at me, right?”

“No.” You give her a small smile that diminishes the awkwardness she feels. “You were right. I should’ve known that he was an asshole.”

“But do you still like him?” She asks gently while there is a knowingness glinting in her eye. “He was your crush, after all. So it’s understandable if you find it hard to move on.”

“I don’t know what to feel, Winter.” You tell her honestly before taking quick sips of your cocktail in an attempt to reinvigorate yourself, but your mind remains in a tumult. A derisive chuckle leaves your lips. “I was a fool for believing in the fact that he meant what he said about me being his girl.”

Winter squeezes your shoulder, denoting her sympathy for you. Her phone rings on the table, prompting her attention to divert to it. “Oh, shoot. I forgot to return Giselle’s call. Be right back.”

Winter shoots you a quick smile before grabbing her phone and proceeding to make her depart, leaving you entirely alone and vulnerable for anyone, specifically for a certain someone with steely eyes who has been watching you, to approach you with ill-intent that you won’t even expect.

You decide to quell the bitterness by downing the cocktail until there is nothing left. With a sigh, you rise from the stool with the intention to head for the restroom, but as you lift your gaze, your heart nearly lurches in your chest at the sight of the man who never fails to evoke a familiar fear in you.

Even if he is standing a few metres away from you, the ambience emanating from him is domineering enough for you to recoil, but you try your utmost to remain rooted to the ground, your eyes unwaveringly meeting his steely ones before they betray your inner turmoil by scanning his appearance.

You are no stranger to the fact that Sunghoon’s fashion sense has always consisted of a variety of leathers. Tonight is no exception ─ a black leather jacket that clasps his athletic physique, as evident in the way the material of his black tee stretches against his muscles beneath the jacket, paired with black-washed denim jeans and a pair of Timberland boots.

As your eyes return to his face, something stirs within you amidst your turmoil at how attractive he looks. The black browline glasses adorning his face and the wisp of his raven strands hovering below his thick eyebrows, nearly to his eyes, do nothing to obscure his penetrating dark gaze on your face.

Despite the dim lights in this specific section of the bar, you can discern the familiar sentiment lurking in his steely eyes. Disdain. But your eyes narrow at his pink lips, which turn into a small smirk that adds weight to your turmoil.

“Who would’ve thought I’d be seeing you here out of all places, Y/N Kang?” His snide remark makes you curl your hand into a fist at the side.

“Park Sunghoon.” You finally utter his government name for the first time throughout the years you have known him.

For reasons beyond your comprehension, Park Sunghoon has despised you ever since freshman year. His glaring hatred is perceptible whenever you often cross paths with him since he is an architecture major in the same department as Jake.

You have heard some things about him, thanks to your tattling friends, allowing you to gain some sort of insight about who Park Sunghoon is ─ he used to be the captain of the ice hockey team and a major fuckboy in freshman and sophomore year until he stopped being the renowned fuckboy out of the blue when junior year entered. Plus, out of the people in his inner circle, he is known to be the coldest and meanest, which has already been proven in the past when he cruelly rejected some of those girls who had slept with him in the most humiliating ways.

Despite all of the words and rumours circulated about him on campus, just his dark gaze alone is enough for you to get the memo that fucking around with him would result in grave consequences. To get on Sunghoon’s bad side or any of the devil’s knights’ leaders' bad side would mean that you have a death wish.

Just like the other two knights’ leaders, Jay and Heeseung, Sunghoon intimidates you greatly. You feel daunted even by a single glance spared to you from him, so you often avoid him like the plague, until recently. Genuinely, you are curious to find out the reasons why he hates your guts when you did not commit any wrongdoing towards him.

You recall the other day when he sided with your deceased bullies. The concoction of abhorrence and wickedness that danced delightfully in his eyes has embedded itself in your mind, and you know that you ought to be leery of him.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t a good little Catholic girl like you be in bed by now?” He takes slow, deliberate steps towards you, his lips curling into a sneer that displays his blatant disdain for you. You don’t miss the way his gaze flickers down at your bare abdomen fleetingly.

“My being here is not in any of your concern.” You accidentally allow the words to slip past your lips before you smack them closed, facepalming at yourself internally for your retaliation against him, but you can’t ignore the niggling annoyance at the back of your mind any longer.

Sunghoon cocks a single eyebrow at you. He totally did not expect the minuscule spark of feistiness within you, as evident in your tone and your unwavering eyes. “A bit brave to be talking back now, are we?” He asks, unrelentingly advancing towards you and leaving you no choice but to back up until you hit the countertop behind you.

The fusion whiff of smoke and strong musky cologne pervades your senses, and you can almost feel the warmth emanating from his body as he stands close to you. His steely eyes penetrating into yours feel unbearably suffocating, as though he has you locked in place just by his gaze alone.

“N-No.” You stutter, and your hand goes flying to the back to grip the edge of the countertop until the tension colours your knuckles white.

As you finally muster the courage to look away from his eyes, the bad shivers run down your spine as you become rattled by the cold derisive chuckles emitting from him. “No?”

At the moment he grabs your chin tightly with his fingers, your heart rattles in your ribcage as he forces you to meet his eyes once more, and this time, contemptuousness hardens his sneering features.

“You think you’re so cute, acting all tough earlier. Now look at you.” Mockery drips from his tone while his deep voice manages to have an impact on you despite the commotion in the background.

Unfortunately for you, the people in your vicinity seem to mind their own business, and some are slowly making their way out of the area. Even the bartenders have gone to the personnel backroom, leaving you completely vulnerable and easily preyed on by the very man looming ominously before you without your friends in sight as well.

You muster courage while releasing a shaky breath. “Get away from me, Park Sunghoon.”

“You dare to make demands now?” Sunghoon’s chuckles sound so lethally cold that your instinct is imploring you to run from him. Your breath hitches in your throat when his fingers make their ascent to your jawline until they reach your ear and sensually stroke the shell. “Keep them coming, because I’m getting real impressed by your audacity, princess.”

The endearment strikes a chord in you, and you swear it sounds oddly familiar to him because it reminds you of one of the predators who chased after you on Devil’s Night. Silver.

“Get away from me, please.” You repeat your plea, but only this time you decide to display your desperation, which softens your features.

“I don’t think so, not until you finally get this into your fucking skull.” Sunghoon says lowly, the familiar cruelty forms a smirk on his lips. You attempt to jerk your head away from him, and he effortlessly cups the cusps of your jaw, holding you in place. “The next time you have the audacity to make demands, you'll do well to remember who I am and that I fucking own you now.”

An anger flares behind your irises. “I don’t belong to any man, and especially not to you.” You manage to deliver your vehemence to him despite the fear that is raging within you. Mustering courage, you glare at him. “For your information, I’m not an object, nor am I a girl with no dignity for you to toy around with. Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’re invading my personal space.”

You force yourself to shove past him, hitting his shoulder roughly as you meander your way to the restroom, which is nearly in the secluded, dimly lit area of the bar, wanting to get away from him before he completely suffocates you with his domineering emanation.

Of course, there is absolutely no way he would follow you all the way here─

A firm hand latches onto your arm, startling you greatly as your heart lurches in your chest, and before you can make any protest, he rips off any opportunity for you to do so as he quickly drags you over to the gentleman's toilet and pushes you roughly inside, nearly sending you to tumble, but he is swift enough to steady you.

“Sunghoon─” You gasp at the impact as soon as he slams you against the wall, which is undoubtedly unsanitary, and the unpleasant smell of faint piss and vomit that pervades the space is revolting to you, as evident in the grimace colouring your face.

“You can’t just drag me whenever you want! And for that matter, we’re in the guys toilet!” You hiss at him, your heart pounding hard against your chest at the palpable tension that is slowly deriving from the glaring contest both of you are in, as does the close proximity. “I’m leaving.”

“You’re not going anywhere until I’m done with you.” He snarls coldly just as you are about to walk past him, grabbing you by the arm again and nearly pinning you against the wall, but this time, you gasp in utter shock when his hand grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs it hard to the back.

The back of your eyes burns at the stinging pain in your scalp. There is not an ounce of clemency in the way he is treating you, matching the sentiments reflecting in his steely eyes. “What do you want from me?” You ask in a whimper, your hand flies to the back and claws at his, denoting him to release you.

“I already told you, princess, that I own you.” He smirks cruelly, his eyes holding indifferently upon seeing your glistening ones staring into his, pleading. “Now that Simon and his two bitch friends are gone, good fucking riddance, you’ll be dealing with me now. Meet your worst nightmare, Y/N Kang.”

“Why are you doing this? I did nothing to you.” You whisper weakly, allowing a traitorous tear to betray your semblance of bravery.

“You always piss me off, princess. You didn’t think you could get away after your display of defiance earlier, did you?” He takes you by surprise as he moves you over to the sink and turns you around before forcing you to bend down until your boobs are mashing against the top beside the sink, with his palm on your back firmly pressing you down.

A painful whimper clogs at your throat as soon as he grabs a fistful of your hair once more and tugs it to the back until you are able to meet his cruel gaze in the mirror. The red LED fluorescence illuminates his face, complementing the menacing ambience he exudes from behind you. You ignore the way your heart flutters at how oddly attractive he looks in the red luminance with the smirk on his handsome countenance.

“I’m a man of my words, so when I said that I would do you much worse, then you best believe that I will.” His tone is laced with malicious intent that is nearly resonating throughout these septic walls. You bite down your bottom lip until you swear it draws blood as you withstand the pain at the moment he tugs at your hair again. “You’re going to be my bitch and do exactly as I say from this moment onwards.”

“S-Sunghoon, please.” You whimper, your hands are outstretched in front of you, clawing on the surface in an attempt to seek some semblance of alleviation from his cruelty to you.

“I haven’t even done anything yet, and you’re already begging?” Sunghoon cold chuckles ring through your ears and send goosebumps on your skin. “Oh, princess, you’ll be doing a lot of begging.”

You exhale in relief as soon as he releases your hair, but his hand makes its descent to your neck. His long, slender fingers curl around your neck in a threatening manner while you still have your head raised.

The pressure he adds to your constricted neck causes your back to arch just slightly, but this catches his attention and subsequently arouses an emotion he thought wouldn’t surface at the sight of your curve accentuated by the mere action of your arching.

“Sunghoon.” Your gasping plea goes unheard by him as his eyes darken with lust while his mind is imbued by the concoction of eroticism and repugnance at the sight of you being utterly helpless under him, arousing the image of you being fucked by him from the back at this very moment while his palm covers your mouth to muffle out your moans.

Once he returns his gaze to the mirror, his dick twitches beneath the confines of his garments. Even the sight of your eyes glistening with tears right now fuels his avidity for destroying your pussy, destroying you.

Sunghoon leans down, his chest pressing against your spine, and his hard-on allows you to feel him distinctly. Your eyes widen in shock at the unmistakable sensation of his dick beneath the layers of his garments pressing into your ass cheeks, and you swear you can almost feel how thick he is. Perhaps even thicker than Jake’s.

Your heart remains pounding hard out of fear and involuntary anticipation as he angles his head to brush his warm lips against the shell of your earlobe. “Now, princess,” He begins to speak in a deep, gravelly voice while he tightens your neck, nearly blocking the airways and bringing more unshed tears to your eyes. “You’re mine to be dealt with for now. Whatever you do, don’t piss me off, and it would be wise for you to heed my command.”

The moment he releases your throat, you gasp loudly for air, but he is quick to cover your mouth and nose with his palm, muffling any noise from you. Goosebumps arise on the surface of your skin as his other hand touches your ass cheek to give it a sensual rub.

He continues to speak beside your ear as his hot breath hits your skin. “If I tell you to bend over, you will bend over. If I tell you to crawl for me, you will crawl. If I tell you to get down on your fucking knees, you will get down on your knees.” He takes you by surprise when he nips at your earlobe. His eyes meet yours once more in the mirror, patronising you with a smile. “Look at yourself right now. You look pathetic, princess.”

You should be despising his assault and every word he spoke to you, but an involuntary yet familiar arousal stirs in your core while his palm on your ass that is rubbing sensually leaves you yearning for more, yearning for him to touch you where you want him too.

“You’re going to take everything I give to you like a good fucking girl you are, understood?” His low growl sparks something in you amidst your fear, which you discern as excitement.

Your eyes are dazed with forbidden desire for the man behind you as you stare at him in the mirror, and hearing no response from you, he presses his body into you deep, causing your hip bone to hit the edge of the sink painfully while his fingernails are digging into your clothed bum as he grips it tight. “Understood?”

You nod your head frantically while your ‘yes’ sounds muffled by his palm. Something stirs within you again when you catch a glimpse of satisfaction in his eyes before he releases you and leaves you to finally gasp for air. You slap down your palm on the surface in an attempt to assist yourself in raising your body, wincing at the painful throb in your hip bone from the prior impact.

“Sunghoon─” You are left speechless when he spins you around and places both hands on your waist to hoist you, settling you on the surface next to the sink. Despite being seated, he manages to tower over you by a few inches.

Sunghoon forces your legs to part as he stands in between them, the lack of space between your bodies is nearly nonexistent while you become lightheaded by his cologne and cigarette scent.

His hand latches on your nape while the other brushes your brunette waves to the side before he angles your neck to his preference, causing you to arch and strain your neck due to his firm grip, allowing his eyes to feast on the porcelain skin that was once bearing Jake’s marks.

The moment his warm lips come into contact with your skin, where your pulse is, you gasp softly in shock, unable to comprehend the fact that the very guy who despises you is kissing your neck. “W-What are you doing?” You ask shakily while you make feeble attempts at pushing him away, but your body betrays you, succumbing to his allure.

“I’m leaving my mark on you.” His murmurs against your skin send familiar shivers to you. He doesn’t say anything next, only administering his kisses and licks on your skin before stopping at a specific spot on your neck.

You can’t help but release breathy moans at the heavenly sensation of his lips kissing and his teeth nipping your skin while your chest heaves up and down. Feeling his arm slithers around your waist, you arch your back and allow him to pull you closer until the heat of both of your cores hits and brushes against each other.

Trepidation sizzles through you when a commotion of laughter can be heard faintly from the outside. “Sunghoon, someone might walk in on us.” You whisper fearfully to him, and yet, you find yourself grinding your clothed cunt against his hardened dick that is in dire need of being freed from the confines.

Sunghoon simply ignores you, sucking your skin hard, which elicits another moan from you while you don’t stop grinding on him, needing to feel some form of friction to relieve your aching clit.

After what feels like forever, his wet muscle licks your now-bruised skin as though to balm it. Tears of frustration prickle in the corners of your eyes when he steps away from you, just before you can even reach the peak of your orgasm. When your gaze settles on his face, you notice how swollen his pink lips are as they upturn to a smirk upon seeing his masterpiece on your skin.

Getting off the countertop, you turn around to get a better look at yourself, and when your eyes land on your neck, your lips go parted, dumbfounded by how explicit his mark looks on your skin, which is sheening with the residue of his saliva. Fresh, purple-red hickey that you know will probably take a week or two to fade.

“No.” Your whisper of mortification elicits more contentment from him as his smirk widens.

Your breath hitches in your throat when he presses his body into you from behind, his hand on your bare waist holding you in place firmly while the other brushes your hair away from obscuring his mark on your skin. 

“Oh, yes, princess.” He croons to you, obviously taunting you. His dark gaze holds so much danger as he meets your glistening eyes. “This will serve you as a reminder every time you look at yourself in the mirror that you belong to me.”

“But my friends─ they─” Panic settles on your chest while your voice remains shaken from the aftermath. “They’ll see it.”

“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem, princess.” His fang-like teeth peek as he chuckles lethally softly. “Now, if you try to escape from me, know that there’ll be consequences.” He can’t resist himself the longer his gaze remains lingering on your dainty neck, so he leans in to kiss on your hickey, causing your body to jolt slightly from the abrupt sensation of his warm lips once more.

“Yeonjun will be hosting a pool party at the resort chalet his parents owned, so I’ll be expecting to see you there.” He murmurs as soon as he pulls away from you.

You swallow harshly in an attempt to moisturise your dry throat as you lock eyes with him in the mirror. “Why are you doing this? I thought you hated me.”

“I still do, which is why I’m doing this.” He smiles coldly in response. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be crawling back for more.”

You hold your chin up in subtle defiance. “No, I won’t.” 

“Don’t fool yourself. Deep down, you know you want me.” He scoffs lightly. “Now off you go.”

You don’t need him to tell you twice as you flee the gentleman's toilet. Panic returns to your chest as you spot your friends by the bar, drinking and conversing amiably amongst each other.

You clench a fist, ruminating whether to head over to them or just leave the bar and walk back to your dorm since it will take no more than twenty minutes from the bar. Heeding your intuition, you whip out your phone to send Karina a text while making your departure from the establishment.

Y/N: Hey, I’m calling it a night. KARINA: So soon? Where are you now? I’ll drive you back. Y/N: It’s fine! I’ve already headed outside. Don’t worry about me, and just enjoy the night with the girls. KARINA: If you say so. Just text me once you arrive at our dorm.

Little do you know that you have forgotten to text her when you step foot into your room as you are preoccupied in the bathroom, relieving yourself to attain the orgasm Sunghoon ripped from you.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he is unable to erase the image of your pliant body being forced to be bent down by him, and the tears that leaked from your eyes as you stared at him in the mirror undoubtedly stirred an arousal within him, but even in his slumber, you managed to appear in his dream, resulting in him waking up with a fucking morning wood.

The steam from the hot shower begins to fog in the spacious bathroom as the water continues to run while he remains stark naked, his palm pressing firmly onto the tempered glass as he continues to masturbate.

A muscle pulses in his chiselled jaw while his eyes darken with a carnal lust as he recalls the delirious dream of him giving you backshots with your arms locked in place on your back as he delivers unforgiving thrusts into your cunt while you were fucked dumb by him, moaning and blabbering incoherent words.

Never has Sunghoon ever thought that you would be his wet fucking dream.

Droplets of the steaming moisture drip down his neck to his chest as he throws his head to the back, grunting out a moan at the moment his orgasm reaches its peak before familiar white essence sprouts from his engorged cock, aiming messily everywhere, staining the shower tiles and the tempered glass. 

Fuck, it has been more than awhile since he came hard like that, and he’s not even the slightest bit satisfied. Sure, he could get any other girl to satisfy his libido and get them to suck him off, but it has been long since he even lured any girls to his bed since he decided to cease his fuckboy tendencies.

In the beginning, it was exhilarating to lure those girls to his bed without any effort, and the sex was good since he managed to fuck different girls with different kinks, which subsequently led to him exploring and developing kinks of his preference. But as time passed, it got tedious. It was always the same boring shit, but mainly because those girls’ vigours matched with his, which is confounding. Every other fuckboy would want girls to match the level of his energy.

However, Sunghoon wanted something different for once. He didn’t want to fuck girls who were the same stereotypical flirtatious and vivacious kind, but at the same time, he also had no idea what type of girls he wanted. Hence, he decided to put an end to his renowned fuckboy reputation.

No girl could ever satisfy him in the way he desired.

That was until now. As your beautiful face with crystalline tears glistening on your cheeks appears in his mind once more, his once softened dick twitches.

Shaking his head, he quickly rinses himself and any evidence of his stained cum in any parts of the shower before grabbing the towel at the side to dry himself and making an exit out of the shower room.

With the towel hanging loosely below his waist, Sunghoon raises an eyebrow upon seeing Jake, clad in denims, sauntering around his room and seeming to be inspecting anything that captures his attention as though he is in an art exhibition.

“The fuck you’re doing here?” Sunghoon asks in a grumble, completely undeterred by Jake’s gaze on his half-naked glory, while he makes his way to his closet room, which is situated across from the shower room, which he finds tedious.

Since they have been living in this very palace where they hosted Devil’s Night, the rooms each of the leaders occupied are equivalently massive.

Jake is unfazed by Sunghoon’s vulgarity since it’s the way he is, watching as the latter ventures into the wonder of his closet. “Are you staying overnight at the resort?”

Sunghoon manages to catch on to his inquiry despite his hands being occupied with searching for some good fits. “Maybe? It depends if I’m too lazy or not to head back to the palace. Why?”

Jake heaves a sigh, his fingers running through his long, tousled strands. “I don’t know if I should go.”

Silence is all Jake receives for a protracted moment before he hears some shuffling, prompting him to look up and spot Sunghoon, now decked out in all-leather, exiting his closet.

“Why?” Sunghoon asks, frowning while drying his damp hair with the towel.

“Because Hana will be there.” Jake groans, inviting himself to plop down on Sunghoon’s bed with the sheets now crinkled beneath his weight, which elicits a scowl from the latter since he is particular about neatness.

“Hana who?” Sunghoon’s tone denotes that he couldn’t care less about the unfamiliar name.

“The girl I used to make Y/N jealous.” Jake’s admission has Sunghoon diverting his full attention to him. Jake’s tongue hits the roof of his mouth, his annoyance is more than apparent. “She won’t stop pestering me and just won’t get the fucking hint that I’m not into her.”

“Wait, you used this Hana to make Y/N jealous?” Amusement is laced in Sunghoon’s tone as he stands across from Jake. Sunghoon’s interest in the matter is piqued. “So did that happen on the same day Beomgyu saw her cry and informed Heeseung?”

“Yeah.” Jake clenches his jaw. “Now I’m starting to regret picking Hana out of all the girls.”

“Pray tell, why did you decide to make Y/N jealous?” Sunghoon cracks a grin despite his curiosity. Jake’s silence draws a scoff from Sunghoon. “Come on, man. You can always tell me.”

“Yeah...that's not happening.” Jake tells him flatly before rising from the bed and making his departure from Sunghoon’s room. “See you there.”

Annoyance seeps into Sunghoon at Jake’s blatant avoidance of the topic since yesterday, when Heeseung confronted him. A part of him really couldn’t care less and is only driven to achieve his goal by doing his part, but another part of him remains lingering with curiosity about what exactly happened and why.

Just then, your face appears in his mind, and he wastes no time to grab his phone by the nightstand and go to your contact to send a message. Sunghoon got your number from Jake, though the latter seemed rather reluctant to give him what he wanted.

SUNGHOON: I’ll be seeing you at the resort chalet. You do know where it’s at, right? Or do you need me to fetch you? This is Sunghoon, by the way.

Surprise tinges in his chest when you respond to him more quickly than he expected.

Y/N: How did you get my number???? SUNGHOON: I have my sources, princess. Y/N: Okay, totally not creepy at all, and stop calling me princess. SUNGHOON: I can call you whatever the fuck I want. Now, answer my question. Y/N: You’re so demanding. Yes, I know where it’s at. I’ll be going with Karina and the other girls. SUNGHOON: Good. Text me once you arrive, and then I’ll tell you where to meet me. Y/N: But I don’t wanna….. SUNGHOON: You have no choice, princess. Have you forgotten what I told you last night? Y/N: Fine, fine. Just please don’t be so obvious. I don’t want any of the girls to find out about this. SUNGHOON: Again, princess, it sounds like a ‘you’ problem. Y/N: I don’t like you, you know that? SUNGHOON: The feeling’s mutual.

To say you are in a predicament is an understatement. Not once have you stepped foot outside of your room since you woke up, and you don't dare to either, especially when the hickey on your neck is glaringly conspicuous.

With your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you have been prancing around your room that if your soft toys, which are arrayed meticulously on your bed, could magically talk, they would probably tell you to sit your ass down as you’re making them dizzy by your unceasing prancing.

You worry gravely that your hickey being seen by your best friends will result in another altercation, and you fear that Wonyoung and even Yunjin might grow to resent you for such indecent conduct that was not expected from you.

You tried applying an excessive amount of concealer, but it was rendered useless because, no matter what, the hickey would remain noticeable. As you are mindlessly fiddling with the silver cross hanging from your neck, you release an annoyed sigh while a growing headache begins to form that is in a muddle of tumultuous emotions.

You blame Park Sunghoon for leaving his ludicrous mark on your neck.

Speaking of him, you halt your steps, your eyes glancing down at your phone screen that displays Sunghoon’s last text. You have an inkling that he must’ve gotten your number from Jake. You ignore the throbbing ache afflicting your heart at the thought of Jake.

Not only are you caught up in a predicament with the unresolved issue between you, Wonyoung and Yunjin, as your friendship with them is strained, but that predicament also includes your heartbreak inflicted by your ex-crush and your cluttered feelings for the guy who hates you.

For once, you genuinely want to scream and pour out your pent-up emotions that are brimming, but you maintain decorum. Your stomach grumbles with a low growl for the third time, denoting that it needs to be stuffed with food.

It’s like there is a lightbulb switch in you. You nod your head to yourself, agreeing that the reason you’re feeling all angsty is because you've neglected your hunger since morning. After all, you’re a major foodie.

You rummage through your closet to grab a baby pink hooded sweater before wearing it with the hood covering your head. You examine yourself in the mirror, adjusting the collar in an attempt to cover up the hickey with the additional help of your hair, which you let loose.

Although uncertainty remains lingering in the air, you decide that this will do it. Plus, you can’t afford to neglect your hunger any longer, as it gnaws in your tummy relentlessly. 

Your heart pounds against your chest as you slowly push down the handle before opening the door. With your head peeking outside, you can hear the sound emitting from the television. You look across you, where the door to Wonyoung’s room is ajar.

With an inaudible sigh, you proceed to leave your comfort zone. Like a clandestine spy on a mission, every step you take is light, moving stealthily. The only goal you have in mind is to get to the kitchen and cook something you hope will be edible, considering that cooking is not your expertise.

When you reach the living room, you notice that the couch is vacant, leaving only the television playing the drama idly for no one. Naturally, you loosen every tension in your muscles and lower your guards before making a beeline for the kitchen.

You have been craving your comfort food, and so you proceed to make yourself a bowl of instant ramyeon. Although you’re not supposed to indulge your cravings since you’re somewhat on a diet, you can’t help it.

Since cooking instant ramyeon is convenient, time passes quickly, and you are finally seated on the high stool by the kitchen island with the steaming bowl of ramyeon in front of you.

Just as you are about to take a slurp of the noodle, your body goes frigid at the sound of footsteps approaching the living room and their voices teeming in the cold air. You decide to act as normally as you can before taking your first slurp.

“A certain someone is finally out of hibernation, I see.” Karina’s voice is laced with mischief as she teases you, prompting you to look up and spot her entering the kitchen with Yunjin and Wonyoung trailing behind her.

“I was tired.” You tell her with a faint smile, disregarding Wonyoung’s eyes that are attentively trained on your face, whereas Yunjin heads for the refrigerator.

“So you decided to sleep in until noon?” Wonyoung’s tone causes you to flinch lightly at how sharp it is.

Although there is sadness, annoyance overweighs your entire senses towards Wonyoung’s change of behaviour when it comes to you.

”Give me a break. It’s a Saturday.” You say dryly without sparing a glance at her as you slurp your noodles. It’s flavorful, indeed, but it does nothing to distract from the tension that you can discern between you and Wonyoung.

Wonyoung doesn’t like your tone, not one bit, as evident by her sharp gaze on your face. “You don’t usually wake up this late, Y/N. Seriously, what’s going on with you?”

“Everything is fine.” You grit your teeth in annoyance, slowly losing your appetite. “Just let this drop, Wonyoung.”

“If everything is fine, then why are you wearing a hoodie when the temperature is not even cold?” Wonyoung remains vehement, irking you greatly.

“Yeah, what’s with the hoodie?” Yunjin joins, though by her nervous chuckles, it’s clear that she doesn’t wish for things to escalate into some altercation just like the other night. “New look?”

“You girls seriously need to lay it off.” You finally divert your full attention to them. “I don’t get why you are so insistent about trifling matters like this.”

“It isn’t trifling when you’ve been acting all weird.” Wonyoung raises her voice just slightly. Her glaring eyes meet yours. “Ever since you slept with Jake, you’ve become a little different. It’s like I almost don’t recognise you.”

“Wony’s right, Y/N.” Yunjin says quietly, and despite her tone remaining neutral, you hate the way she is looking at you right now, the sentiment matches Wonyoung’s. “You’re different now.”

“I’m not.” You object vehemently, and by now, your ramyeon is forgotten as you are preoccupied with defending yourself. “I can assure you that I have not changed. Ask Rina!”

“If you asked me, I’d say you’ve changed a little, but in a good way.” Karina adorns a grin, unaffected by the sizzling tension between you and Wonyoung. Karina darts her eyes between Wonyoung and Yunjin at their glare on her face. “What? Come on! Aren’t you girls glad that Y/N finally knows how to have fun? Speaking of which, Y/N! You definitely need to wear this dress I got for you to Yeonjun’s pool party.”

“She’s going to Yeonjun’s pool party?” Wonyoung’s high-pitched tone denotes disbelief. “And you’re encouraging her when you’re supposed to be on our side?”

“Is there a problem if I go to Yeonjun’s pool party?” You ask Wonyoung, your chin has a tilting defiance. “You and Yunjin are going too, so I don’t see why I can’t go.”

“It’s a pool party, Y/N! It’s not your type of scene! You’re not even brave enough to wear a bikini!” Wonyoung displays her exasperation. “Plus, the senior knights will obviously be there, including Jake!”

You scoff out a dry laugh. “If you’re worried about me bumping into Jake, don’t be. I don’t have any intention to associate myself with him anymore.”

“Did something happen?” Yunjin takes a step forward upon noticing the fleeting heartbreak in your eyes.

Before you can speak, Karina intervenes loudly. “Oh, look at the time! We really need to start getting dressed up and stuff.” She chuckles before directing her eyes to yours, and you instantly receive her silent message.

You take down a mental note to return for the remnants of your ramyeon later, as you get off the stool. Just as you walk past Wonyoung, you spare her a glance. “Maybe you don’t know me, but I can be brave at times, Wonyoung.”

In return, Wonyoung chuckles coldly at you, and the disappointment can be seen in her eyes. “You’re right. Maybe I don’t know you at all, because I only know the old Y/N Kang.”

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[satoruhour]

HE PLAYS BASS !

a/n: modern au bc i cant handle any angst rn. i ramble a lot in this to set the scene teehee. not beta read, gn btw / tagging @crysugu @slttygeto @getousex :3

wc: 3k ish

warnings: bass guitarist!geto, soft dom!geto, he is respectful of your boundaries, both geto and reader smoke weed, shotgun kiss, sexual acts under the influence, fingering, clit stimulation, implied second round, implied cunnilingus, dry humping, praise, n*sfw under the cut

bass guitarist!geto who has had an interest in music and its instruments since being a little boy, practically begging his parents to enrol him in some guitar classes. with fingers strumming the nylon strings alongside complicated chords on the frets felt so right that since then he and his guitar have been inseparable since.

bass guitarist!geto who gets to know the guitar so well that he masters guitar solo after guitar solo, playing songs by ear in his free time and thought lead guitar was all there was to music until the age of fifteen where he stumbles across a song with a bass line that sounded absolutely heavenly — through the 240p quality of the youtube video, he watched the bassist dish out the heavy beats, always in the background yet detrimental to making the band sound complete.

bass guitarist!geto who leaped at the opportunity to buy a bass guitar with whatever money he had to purchase a Squier bass — it was a little shitty in sound but it was cheap, something affordable for a middle schooler. suguru didn’t care. he perfected the use of his bass guitar, already having the basics down from playing guitar; his room is filled with posters, picks, pieces of displaced lyrics.

bass guitarist!geto only has the chance two years later to ask his new friends if they wanted to jam out together and down the line, if they wanted to form a band. it was a clueless band of boys (with shoko of course) in some room of gojo satoru’s luxury house where his parents don’t care to ask him to keep the noise down like suguru’s parents do.

bass guitarist!geto fights to get a spot to audition for one of tokyo’s biggest music festivals a few months later. if they won they would get more recognition, more support, even if they haven’t figured out the specifics of how to operate a band. with gojo as the singer, shoko on the lead and nanami on drums, they would find out what they had.

bass guitarist!geto who breaks that stereotype of the bassist being ignored throughout a performance. he thinks it could be because of his longer hair and his newly bought gauges, and he thought he didn’t look too shabby himself — although he isn’t surprised to see most of the girls fawn over gojo as he sang lyrics of an original song, courtesy of the joint effort between geto and shoko.

bass guitarist!geto who gives judges the finger after they said they couldn’t perform originals at an audition, blacklisting them for future performances — but gojo sees it as a win when he has a hoard of new fans waiting outside to get a photo with him with autographs that differed from each paper his pen made contact with. later, he bursts out laughing when gojo says he hadn’t even thought of a proper signature yet and just ‘did whatever on their paper’.

bass guitarist!geto whose band gained popularity fast because of everyone’s good looks, singing at that same place they auditioned at, but now with repertoire under their belt. it’s then that they’re already all in university, and yet everyone’s still incredibly passionate.

bass guitarist!geto who spots you in the crowd together with your friends, jamming out to their set, but while your friends’ eyes are locked on gojo who’s loving the attention, nanami who can’t give a shit and shoko who’s too focused on her solo, you manage to draw geto’s eyes to you. he spends the rest of the set locking eyes with you, amidst other things like sending you winks and licking his lips until you’re under his spell. all throughout he doesn’t lose the rhythm, but he does slip-up from time to time and there’s a panicked look that nanami sends to geto for messing up his rhythm.

bass guitarist!geto who sees you at his next show alone, smiling up at him right at the front row while he’s trying not to mess up after the last time. this time he has a chance to show you what he’s got in a bass solo, losing himself in the music until even you fades off and you’re truly seeing the bassist for who he is. he’s easing back into the main melody of the song but not before leaning over the speakers with a knee on the floor, hovering right over you before shoko takes over and he’s back to his heavy beats.

bass guitarist!geto who brushes off the teasing after the set ends, only to be bombarded with more of it when he sees you on campus — no way you’re in the same school as him, walking around with your cute outfits and laughing along to your friend’s joke with no care in the world.

bass guitarist!geto who doesn’t have much trouble charming you into hanging out with him, already recognising him from far away when he’s got his long flowy hair and gauges and tight black shirt and tall stature — you aren’t realising he’s asking you if it’ll be okay for you to head over to his dorm room. you’re getting pushed by your friends behind you to say yes with giggles and gossip, and of course you weren’t going to reject the hot guy you missed class and ditched friends for.

bass guitarist!geto who shows you his room and tells you to let him know if he’s made you uncomfortable in any way. in the background, there’s a faded, soft song that continues to play that really completes the dorm, immediately hitting it off until he starts to roll a joint a while later, offering it to you with a raise of his eyebrow.

“oh— n-no it’s fine, geto-san, i don’t really smoke…” you sheepishly turn down the weed, settling instead to watch him and his beautiful side profile, letting him explain to you about bands and guitar and chords.

“thank you for having me, geto-san,” bowing, you’re nothing like the person in the bar that day, geto thinks it’s the lack of alcohol but he doesn’t mind, simply leaning on the doorframe as he nods down at you. his smile is intoxicating and so goddamn attractive you would’ve buckled to your knees if not for the deep breaths you were taking.

“next time, pretty?” geto smiles, a little high from smoking. his eyes are lidded (they usually are anyway) and smile lopsided. his hair’s almost out of the bun.

“yeah, next time,” it sounded so breathy, you bit your lip. “i guess you’d have to find me on campus, though.”

bass guitarist!geto who mutters how you’re a little tease to himself later when he closes the door. he swears to himself he’d get your number next time, but it’s not difficult to find you the next time, hanging around the same place at the same time. it’s like you wanted him to find you — he’s not opposed to it. it’s a few weeks down the road now, and the second time is watching him curiously as he smokes, too. you take a hit and embarrass yourself completely in front of him though, and while you’re fighting for your life, you’re not opposed to the buzz it gives you.

bass guitarist!geto who’s opening the door to you the next time, surprised to see your dishevelled state and a pillow between your arms, walking almost a block like this to the next building where his dorm was. he offers to make you some tea and you shake your head, feeling a pounding headache already coming on just from explaining that your roommate was an asshole.

“you can sleep here if you want to, okay?” you sigh, thanking him immensely because even after knowing him for such a short period of time, you’re comforted by his presence.

“at least satoru’s not here,” you laugh at that, nodding tiredly before you’re settling on gojo’s bed after insistence from the other. he wouldn’t care, he’s always going back home anyway, don’t know why he wanted to share a room with me. but before you can get settled in, you hear the familiar crinkling of the paper and the click of the lighter and the smell of weed fills the room again.

again, his hand is outstretched, holding an ashtray below him as the tip of joint glows a red, calling out to you yet reminding you of the way you coughed the other night.

you crawl off his roommate’s bed, snatching the cig out of his hand in a way to prove something to yourself before taking a big puff. this time you’re better, letting the drug flow through your system, but tolerance is another thing, because it only takes another hit for you to be smiling drowsily at the other while geto is a little high, too, eyes rolling to the back of his head when your hand traces over his arms and you giggle.

“you w’nna kiss?” geto asks quietly, a little soberly, having talked late into the night while you hang off his arm and slur your words. but now you know you’re feeling a little more sensible when you can feel your heart pound and your eyes widen despite their need to close.

“i meant it, doll. you’re fuckin’ stunning,” suguru mumbles, the coldness of his rings sending a chill down your body, but also a spark to your core, “you look exactly like the day i discovered bass.” and it’s like cupid fully shoots his arrow through your heart — because have you heard the man play? you’re speechless at his point, only mustering a nod before you’re leaning in.

he hums drunkenly as a way to ask you to wait a min, manoeuvring you onto his lap before he’s taking the almost vanishing joint into his hands. two more puffs are perfect for the cigarette to be discarded and so with a gentle hand, he holds onto your nape while he tries not to get hard from having you on his lap. slowly, your lips wrap around the other end of the joint, taking in another influx of the drug before he does too.

bass guitarist!geto who pulls you towards his lips a little roughly but he doesn’t give you what you want (what he has in mind is much, much better), rather leaving his lips ajar as he exhales the smoke from his mouth into yours, your own smoke already dissipating. weirdly, this burn is more prominent, probably because all you can focus on are suguru’s dazed eyes and the way they burn through your skull. you inhale the smoke before you feel his soft lips on yours.

geto hums into your lips, coming off of them periodically to allow the smoke to disperse, but the moment is so intimate and hot that you blow away the smoke and lunge forward to wrap your arms around his neck.

“no more pullin’ away, geto-san…” you’re trailing off, words messily whispered against his lips and you burn at the chuckle he sounds out, muttering back a question of consent. you’re nodding, reeling at the speed at which he places his hands on your thighs, dragging you further up his front until you rested on his pelvis.

“kissing me like you can’t breathe and you’re still calling me by my last name? i’m wounded.” geto pulls away and defies your rule — you think he’s the only one who can do that. pouting, suguru pushes away the hair enclosing your face. “c’mon, drink, sober up a little.”

“...i like it like this,” you murmur, ashamed as to how readily you leaned into his touch. his stare is piercing though, not budging until you’re gulping down half the cup.

“throats turn dry when we smoke, princess. we can do it more when you’re more used to it, alright?” geto explains, patting your thigh and ignoring the tensing of them around his own. he’s trying so hard to act nonchalant, but he can’t get the image of you parting your lips for the smoke out of his head. the way your eyes flutter close, how you wanted more of him.

“alright… suguru,” you sigh out the name and geto wishes he could hear it somewhere else, “but can we—” the high is getting to you, making your hormones go into a frenzy and you’re grinding on his lap. geto hisses at the feeling, of your cunt brushing against his bulge. your hips are inexperienced, but you’re going by feel, drawing little circles and moving back and forth; whatever that brings you pleasure.

“baby— f-fuck…” geto swears when you pair it with the lips tha kiss down his cheek and jaw and neck, hands on your hips guiding you as you try to chase your high. but a whine from you draws geto out of his daze and he almost cums hearing your needy voice, begging him for something, anything.

“’m tired, suguru,”

he knows, grinding is a tiring thing, so rather he opts for you to lie on him with your back to his chest. by now, the room’s filled with the smell of weed and arousal, asking once again if he could take off your pyjama shorts. geto smiles at the lack of underwear but he says nothing, eyes latched onto the strings of juices that connect your pussy to the shorts.

“my baby ready to be touched?” he feels you nod, loving the way your stomach contracts and expands at the hand that travels over your clothed tits. there, he squeezes them, rubbing fingers over the hardened nub but soon creeps towards your centre. his hand and fingers are so much larger than yours, covering your whole core easily when he cups it and the contact is enough to make you mewl.

“hurry,” your hips hump the air.

“patience, darling,” geto’s gravelly voice cuts through to your ear before he finally draws languid circles upon your clit, rubbing and pressing on your bundle of nerves. his whole body burns from seeing you react so cutely, all cause your eyes couldn’t leave his on that stage. now your eyes were rolling up and over, little moans leaving your lips just from his hands.

bass guitarist!geto who seems to know all your pleasure points in one night, kissing the spot under your ear, to talking you through your orgasm. you were enamoured by the guitarist that you’d let him do anything to you, obsessed with the way he never missed questions of “is this okay?” and “tell me to stop”. geto is just as besotted by you, the arch of your back, the call of his name. god, he was going to write so many songs about you.

“think you can handle a finger, baby?” suguru whispers, caressing your twitching thighs from your first orgasm. with a shaky “yes”, geto plays with your hole, smearing your juices around your sex and getting it all on your thighs. the bashful suguruuu! has him laughing, taking your lips into another kiss as an apology.

“sorry, sweetheart. love teasin’ ya,” muffled words are said, “goin’ in.”

your jaw drops even more when geto first inserts a finger, so much wider and longer that a long moan escapes you. the stretch is so good, everything you’ve ever imagined after watching his fingers travel over the bass strings, and you’re already asking for a second finger. when he does oblige, your hands fly to grab at his wrist.

“feel good?” he chuckles at your lack of an answer, rather responding by clenching around his fingers and leaning back more into his hold. geto sets a pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. he thinks it’s enough of staring at you and almost gets whiplash when his head turns to his hand — from the way he disappears into your dripping cunt, he thinks he’ll cum untouched, although your desperate hips also would play a part.

“feel s’good, suguru— shit…” geto groans lowly into your ear when he feels your hand replicating the circles he’s made on your clit, juices starting to collect in his palm from how wet you were.

“you keep clenchin’ around me, baby, you w’nna cum?”

your body is more vocal than your voice, twisting and thrashing from how his fingers already feel so good. the haze and the smell of geto suguru and the weed in your system is all overloading on you at the moment, but in between you’re able to nod, fingers rubbing at your clit while geto’s speed picks up a little.

your legs naturally spread, each slap of his palm against your pussy paired with the lewd noises only making the whole thing better. it’s not long before you feel that familiar feeling, using your right hand to direct him to you once more and it’s here you see the man you saw on stage before: focused, flushed, small smirk on his face. “gonna cum.”

“yeah? are you?” geto asks against your lips, still tasting the faint aroma of the joint. your eyes are so heavy and your limbs feel like lead; it’s a wonder how both your hands are moving on your soaking wet pussy.

“yeah, sugu, s’sensitive—!” geto coos softly at your whimpers before capturing your lips, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip and your orgasm comes crashing down on you. suguru effectively swallows your moans, groaning on his own end when he can feel your cum running down his hand. slowly, he lets you ride through your orgasm, pressing pecks on your skin and shoulders.

“attagirl. so much cum, hm?” your chest is heaving, whining when he removes his fingers and there’s a cute little squelch from the juices, gasping softly as geto separates his fingers and there’s strings connecting his middle to ring finger. “dirty girl.”

you scoff softly with a smile, eyes following how his fingers make his way into his mouth. the other only hums before carrying you bridal style to the shower with a sweet smile on his face. geto suguru was certain he’d worship you.

“gotta taste that cute little pussy next time.”

[kujousgf]

EVERLONG. mdni. 18+.

dream girl evil universe

pairing: rockstar!natasha romanoff + yelena's best friend!reader

summary: you hadn't expected yelena's natasha to be the natasha

warnings: fluff, partial smut, light angst for like a second, top!natasha, bottom!reader, really they're just very sweet

wc: 2.5k

You freeze in the kitchen of Yelena’s apartment, seeing a redhead that you don’t recognize sitting on the couch in the living room. You briefly wonder if Yelena had had a breakdown and dyed her hair without telling you. That would explain today’s radio silence even though usually your phone was blowing up asking when you would finally be done with your classes and come make her dinner. It was Monday night and usually you’d come over to Yelena’s apartment to make dinner and watch whatever movie Yelena chose. Sometimes her girlfriend Kate would come over, but Yelena liked to keep Monday nights for ‘best friend time’ as she liked to call it. You hesitantly hang your bag on the hook by the door and close it behind you. Hopefully you didn’t just close yourself in with a serial killer or something. 

At the sound of the door closing, the redhead turns her head and your jaw almost drops when you make eye contact. Natasha Romanoff is sitting in Yelena’s living room. 

What the hell is Natasha Romanoff doing sitting in Yelena’s living room? 

The redhead is the lead guitarist and singer in what most magazines and articles are calling ‘one of the most popular female rock bands in the past twenty years.’ Even if someone doesn’t know Spellbound’s music, they’d know Natasha. She’s recently been a hot topic of the internet, having been caught on video punching one of her bandmate, Wanda’s, exes in the face after they wouldn’t stop harassing her. The video spread like wildfire, most people on Natasha’s side and other’s calling her a bitch, saying she shouldn’t get involved. You, of course, were on Natasha’s side. 

She doesn’t seem at all concerned, just raises an eyebrow at the continued silence when you don’t say anything. “You’re not Yelena.” Is what you say, lamely, when you can finally get your brain to connect to your vocal chords. “Not the last time I checked, no. As far as I can tell neither are you.” 

“It’s Monday night.” You say as if that would be any explanation at all as to why you’re in Yelena’s apartment. Natasha stands from the couch, putting the bottle of beer she was drinking down on Yelena’s coffee table. “Right,” she nods in agreement, “but that doesn’t explain what you’re doing in my sister’s apartment.” You almost choke on your own spit at Natasha’s words. Yelena’s Natasha was the Natasha? 

As if to save you from whatever wrath the redhead was going to unleash on you for being a stranger in her sister’s apartment, Yelena emerges from her bedroom. “Y/N! It’s nice of you to finally make it. I thought maybe a traffic monster had swallowed you up.” You were five minutes later than usual and she was acting like it was the end of the world, typical. Natasha is momentarily forgotten as you roll your eyes at your best friend's words. “Hi, Y/N. So nice to see you, Y/N. I’m so sorry I was a ghost today, Y/N.” You mock her playfully, ready to give her an earful for making you think she might have died today before Natasha clears her throat.

“Big sisters don’t get introductions anymore?”

It was easy to get over your initial starstruck feeling after the first couple of days that Natasha stayed with Yelena. You learned that there was a two week long break between legs of the tour and Natasha decided she wanted to come visit her sister. With no prior notice, of course, because that’s just how Natasha does things. It really didn’t take long for you to feel comfortable around her and although she had been skeptical to let herself fully relax around you, even if she didn’t show it, she eventually did. You found that you enjoyed being around her and even found yourself hanging around Yelena’s apartment even when she wasn’t there just so you could spend time with Natasha. 

And Natasha enjoyed spending time with you. She didn’t show it, much like she didn’t show most emotions that weren’t surface level, but she was excited to finally meet the famous Y/N Yelena would always rave about for the past however many years when they spoke on the phone. She would always regret not coming to visit more often, but she wouldn’t trade her current life for anything even if it meant time spent with Yelena was over the phone more often than not. She could make up for it in other ways, hopefully her sister felt the same. 

It was the last day of Natasha’s two week visit and you were both sitting on the cargo bed of her rental truck. It was parked in the grassy parking area near the picnic area of one of New York’s many state parks. It was nearly deserted save for a few families, August wasn’t exactly peak tourist season in this part of New York. You were waiting for Yelena to arrive with Kate, the blonde finally deciding that now would be a good time for Natasha to meet her girlfriend. Of course she waited until the day before Natasha left. 

You’re leaning into Natasha, your legs dangling off the edge of the cargo bed, kicking back and forth lightly. She’s leaning on one hand and letting you play with her fingers on the other. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to admit it out loud, but she will miss you when she’s gone. She hadn’t planned on growing so close to you and she’s never had a problem with being detached before, but something about you just draws her in. If she could stay here, with you leaning against her and the gentle breeze against her skin, she would. It’s a dangerous thought, she knows it is, but she wonders if you’d wait for her to come back. Whenever that is. 

The mixture of Natasha’s perfume and the nature around you is comforting and you don’t want anything to burst the little bubble of comfort you and Natasha have created for yourselves. “Is it bad that I don’t want you to go?” You ask quietly, hoping if you don’t say it too loud then the question won’t hold as many emotions as you know it does. Natasha doesn’t respond for a few seconds, trying to come up with an answer that won’t make you upset but also won’t give you any false hope. “You could always come to one of my shows.” Is what she settles for, but the sigh she gets in response isn’t what she wanted. 

“You know I can’t.” Your legs stop kicking and you let the warm breeze brush against them as it blows past. Natasha squeezes your hand, “I know.” She’s about to say something else, but the honk of a horn interrupts her and you practically jump off of the truck, a startled curse falling from your lips as you whip your head around. You groan when you see Yelena’s car and turn to bury your face in Natasha’s shoulder, previous feelings seemingly forgotten, “Your sister’s an asshole.”

Natasha laughs, reaching up to run a hand through your hair, the feeling much too familiar. It makes a pit form in her stomach, but she pushes it down. “It runs in the family. Now, come on. I have to go all big sister on this Kate girl.” She pats your shoulder and waits for you to pull away from her before getting down from the truck. She almost walks away, but thinks better of it, instead turning to help you down as well. There’s no reason to pull away, she reminds herself, you two are just friends. Friends who have spent the past couple of nights cuddled together on Yelena’s couch while watching movies, but still, just friends. 

You both hear two car doors shut and then Yelena’s voice, “Sestra! Come meet Kate!” and then much quieter, Kate’s nervous one, “Babe, I really think maybe we should just go back. I mean she’s already met Y/N, so maybe I’ll be next time.”

Surprisingly, you’re able to stop Natasha from scaring Kate too much, but she still puts the fear of God into the brunette, promising something awful if she were to ever break her sister’s heart. Of course Kate swears she would never do anything like that and then goes on a nervous rant about how she was totally on Natasha’s side when it came to punching that guy.

The rest of the afternoon goes smoothly, you all had a good time and you almost completely forgot that Natasha would be leaving tomorrow. Until you didn’t. You had been sleeping over at Yelena’s apartment the past couple of nights and tonight was no different, wanting to see Natasha off when she left. Like a good friend would. Because that’s what you were. Friends. 

Natasha had claimed she was going to stay up all night so that when she got on the bus in the morning, she’d be able to sleep through the long drive to the hotel in Indiana. You gave some lame excuse to hide wanting to spend more time with her as a reason why you’d stay up with her. Yelena had gone to sleep long ago and you were starting to get a little sleepy, but you weren’t going to give up now. You looked at your phone to check the time: 2:46am. 

You were in a similar position to earlier, except instead of a truck bed you were sitting on the couch with your legs curled up next to you as you leaned into Natasha. “Y/N?” Natasha whispers into the quiet of the living room, the only sound besides her voice being the quiet murmur from the tv. You hum in response, eyes trained on the scene being shown on the tv screen. You were watching reruns of one of your favorite shows and although Natasha wasn’t all that interested, she’d let you keep it on. 

“Y/N.” She says slightly louder and you sit up in confusion, looking around to see if maybe you’d missed something. You furrow your eyebrows when everything is the same as it was before, “what?” Natasha looks like she wants to say something, but she hesitates slightly. “Nevermind. Sorry, I thought I saw something.”

“Nat, seriously, what?” You’re beyond confused now and a little too tired to understand the emotions in Natasha’s eyes the way you usually would. It’s a split second decision, but the resolve she’s been trying to build up for the past few days has been effectively crumbled and the question that’s been on the tip of her tongue since you asked if it was bad you wanted her to stay finally escapes her lips, “can I kiss you?”

It takes you a second to register the fact that she actually wants to kiss you, but as soon as you do you’re nodding your head. She surges forward, cupping your cheeks and pressing her lips against yours. Your eyes flutter shut and you grab at her shirt, trying to tug her closer as your lips move against each other. Her tongue slides against your bottom lip and you gasp. She takes the opportunity to push her tongue into your mouth, exploring it. There’s no real fight for dominance, you let Natasha take the lead entirely. 

You tug her down as you lay back on the couch and she shifts slightly so that she can straddle your hips, one of her hands tangling in your hair. Eventually she has to pull away for air and she’s glad she does with the way you struggle to breathe properly, fists clutching her shirt. Your breathing is labored and she would find it cute had she not realized you were sacrificing breathing just to kiss her. She almost wants to scold you for it. 

She rubs her thumb across your cheek as she looks down at you. She really shouldn’t be doing this, not before she has to leave, and especially not in Yelena’s living room, but she doesn’t know if she really cares right now. “I’m going to kiss you again, okay?”

“Please.” You nod desperately, tugging her back down and meeting her lips halfway. This kiss is much more heated and messy, the both of you more desperate for each other than you already were. Natasha bites down on your bottom lip and you moan softly, arching up into her. Her smirk breaks the kiss and you almost whine, but it’s almost like she can read your mind because she’s immediately shushing you and pressing her lips to yours again. 

Your hands slide under her shirt to grip at her waist and pull her closer to you, desperately wanting to feel her against you. The way you’re kissing is almost feverish, the both of you so desperate that you feel if you don’t consume the other it may be your demise. Natasha pulls away to quickly pull her shirt off and discard it on the floor and if you weren’t so desperate to have her lips on yours again, you would have taken more time to admire her abs. 

When she leans back down to meet your lips in another frenzied kiss, she doesn’t even take the time to pull your shirt off entirely, merely pushes it up and over your breasts, her hands finding purchase on the soft skin of your waist before traveling up. She groans at the way your body reacts to her and the little whine you let out when she slides her fingertips over the cups of your bra. 

When she pulls away again you try to catch your breath, feeling a little lightheaded from having Natasha like this. She’s leaning over you, hands cupping your cheeks as her thumb rubs soothingly across one of them. “If we keep going, I’m not going to be able to stop.” She laughs lightly, the look on your face telling her that very much wouldn’t be a problem. “But I don’t think this is the right place for that, doll. Another time, alright?”

The rest of the night is spent with Natasha whispering sweet nothings to you as you fall in and out of sleep, trying your best to stay awake with her. She promises to come back soon, even though she doesn’t know when soon will be, and that she’ll text you when she can and set aside time to call, and would you like that? Eventually, you succumb to sleep and Natasha has to slip away without a proper goodbye. She’d tried to wake you, you can’t fault her for that one. And if Yelena noticed you wearing Natasha’s shirt while you were asleep on the couch, she didn’t say anything. 

-

“I hope you guys don’t mind us playing something new.” Natasha’s words are met with loud cheers and she smirks softly, “it’s a song I wrote recently and we haven’t had a chance to play it for anyone yet so we figured why not, right? It’s called Everlong. I hope you guys like it.” She looks behind her and nods to Carol who starts the drum beat.

“Hello

I’ve waited here for you

Everlong”

[eowynstwin]

disquiet comfort

previous - neighbors - next

John hears you through the walls. cw: accidental voyeurism, implied masturbation

John hears the creak of your bed springs the next morning.

He’s not surprised by it—you’re not the first neighbor he’s had, only the first he’s met. He knows how thin the walls are now, and has long passed the point of finding it annoying. He listens as the sound of your taps coming on filters through drywall and insulation at a low hum, thinks he can hear the buzz of an electric toothbrush. He wonders if you can hear his razor going as he trims his mustache.

It feels nice to have this odd company, he thinks. The two of you, going through the same motions. It strikes an old, abandoned chord—he hasn’t woken up with anyone in a long, long time.

He puts his razor down and squashes the thought flat. His neighbor—his kind, pretty neighbor—does not need him to think like that. Even if your eyes had traveled the length and breadth of his body before making it to his face.

He meets his own eyes in the mirror, giving himself a flat look. He isn’t used to civilian life. Answering the door shirtless had probably been some sort of faux pas. If you’d been looking, you’d probably been more disconcerted than anything else. That’s the long and short of it, he tells himself, because there’s no room for anything else.

John is never very good at being home. The things that keep him alive out there—hyperawareness, sharply defined mission parameters, strict operational regimens—are, at home, needs that go unmet. Liverpool is not a popular terrorist hotbed he needs to pay attention to. He isn’t going to die if he forgets to buy milk. And he can only go to the gym so often.

But he needs something to do, or he’s going to go crazy.

So today he does on leave what he dreams of in the field: he has his first of two showers for the day, makes himself breakfast in his own kitchen, and turns on the telly for the noise. It’s some dumb morning show, with too-clean hosts shilling for weird kitchen tools. Easy to ignore.

Inevitably, he thinks about Mexico. About Shepherd. About Chicago, and Hassan, and Laswell telling him he needs to get some goddamn rest before he kills himself trying to stop a war that isn’t even happening.

“Yet,” he’d ground out.

She’d just stared at him with dagger-sharp eyes and told him to go home.

John bites into his toast harder than a grown man told to take a fucking vacation should, and turns up the volume.

Three soft, polite taps sound on the wall.

John blinks. Remembers the previous morning, what he’d said to you. The remote is in his hand before he thinks about it, the mute button depressed beneath a quick thumb.

The quiet is like the end of a gunfight. Unsteady.

He waits. He doesn’t know what for. The silence stretches. He notices a shaft of sunlight coming through his window, little motes of dust dancing in the air, as he looks around his own flat for some reason. It’s habit—surveying a battlefield after it’s been passed over by violence.

He looks back to the space above the TV. Rises carefully from his seat. Goes over to the wall.

Raps his knuckles twice against it. All good?

Immediately there are two taps in response. Yes, thanks! And the break of the still silence is like a soap bubble popping. John breathes, and then realizes he hadn’t been.

There are no further knocks. It disappoints him, but he does not expect them. It’s just a friendly interaction between neighbors.

It doesn’t matter. It feels like something has unknotted in his chest.

He feels almost like a voyeur as the day goes on. He hears when you work in your kitchen, notes the muffled clang of a pan on the stove. He hears your dishwasher run later, and briefly wonders at the utility of using it for so few dishes.

You’re on the phone at one point, but he can’t make out the conversation. He only half-tries to, but the even the indistinct, low sound of your voice is comforting. It reminds him of late nights in the barracks, listening to bunk mates talk while trying not bother anyone else. The closest to domestic comfort John has really ever had.

You turn music on at one point, something soulful and a little moody. John thinks it might be Marvin Gaye, but he’s not sure. The urge to knock on your door and ask is a strong one, but he doesn’t think you need a lonely old soldier bothering you in the middle of your day. At least, not any more than he already has. And before he can figure it out for himself, he hears you exclaim “Oh, shit!” and the volume immediately drops.

He has to smile at that. It’s a rare luxury for him to experience these days, that kind of consideration.

Something in his chest gives a little jump when he hears two knocks on his wall again. Sorry, he thinks you’re saying.

He knocks twice back. All good.

He should not feel so invigorated by this exchange.

You leave the house a little after noon—he hears your door open and close, and the jingle of keys followed by footsteps quickly retreating. Then, your noise is gone.

John and silence do not go well together. Too quickly, the quiet closes in, and John thinks if he stays in his own home a minute longer he’ll suffocate from it—so he takes your cue, and leaves. He isn’t really sure what to do, but he has to do it anywhere else.

He gets home after you do, sore from the weight racks and full on pub food and a few pints. The sky is dark and the sidewalks are illuminated in yellow lamplight, and the air hums with the wind of cars driving in the distance. He sees your window lit up bright and warm, and the relief it fills him with is disproportionate to how anyone should feel knowing that their neighbor is home.

Where did you go during the day, he finds himself wondering? What are you making for dinner? What will you do once you’ve eaten?

John realizes he’s standing there staring at your window, and scowls at himself. He’s a fucking creep, that’s what he is. A pretty neighbor talks to him once, fucking welcomes him home like any nice person would, and suddenly he’s pining like a stupid little schoolboy.

He goes inside. Hears you in your kitchen again and convinces himself he’s ignoring it. Tries to find something to stay awake with. Has one cigar more than he’d planned for the day, and thinks at least he’ll get to go out and get more sooner—something to do with the wealth of time he didn’t ask to receive.

He’s already in bed, second shower finished, when he hears activity on the other side of the wall. He hadn’t really been falling asleep, but he’s wide awake now, and feeling like a pervert as he listens to your bath come on.

He hasn’t gone to bed with anyone in a long time, either.

John lays there in the dark, eyes open, and tries to ignore how easy it is to breathe as the water runs muffled only a few feet away. He doesn’t acknowledge the fact that he can hear again the tiny buzz of a toothbrush a little after the flow shuts off. He listens to the creak of your bed and does not think about how warm your skin must be, how softly the sheets must fall around your body.

He closes his eyes. He tries to sleep. He isn’t thinking about listening to your breathing beside him. He isn’t drifting off imagining the smell of your hair on his pillow…

He hears a tiny buzz again. Brushing your teeth a second time? No, it’s closer now…

Oh. OH.

John’s eyes fly open. Your bed creaks again. He is rigid under the covers, every muscle tensed. He breathes consciously, testing the limits of his diaphragm, counting to three between each inhale and exhale. He is desperate that his pulse remain even, that his blood refrain from rushing through his ears and other parts.

A small sound. Breathy. Low.

John slaps his hand against his thigh before it can move any further inward. He curls his fingers around the hem of his briefs, grips the fabric as if it’s going to save his damn life. Clenches his other hand into a fist, digs his nails into his palm.

What expression is on your face? What is the scent of your toothpaste on your breath?

What angle are you holding that vibrator at?

You give a low moan again.

His breath shallows out. John considers giving the wall a tap but dismisses the option immediately and ruthlessly. He will take his secret audience to the fucking grave. And he’d shoot himself before denying you this—and, he thinks shamefully, denying himself this, too.

He should get up. He should go into his living room and give you privacy. Your bed creaks again. He remembers his own mattress tends to the same disruption. He can’t move, because it would effect the same outcome as a knock—you’d know exactly how thin the walls are, know that he’s right there and that he’s only leaving after he’s already gotten an earful.

Another sound, higher. John isn’t sure he’s breathing anymore. What did your skin feel like? Would his fingers fit you better than that toy? Would his cock?

He thinks he feels a nail break skin. He tries to think of anything other than the throb of blood and heat between his legs, between your legs.

You give a sudden, high-pitched cry, one that abruptly cuts off.

John knows you’ve buried your face in your pillow to quiet yourself. His entire body twinges with the disappointment of it. He breathes so lowly as to be silent, to give space to your noise, and waits.

But the buzzing stops. Your bed shifts again, and then all is silent.

Wait. What?

Was that it?

The silence stretches. John does not move. That was it.

John does not think about how much longer he could’ve made that last. He does not think about teasing you with his hands, his lips, his tongue. Does not picture your legs hung up high on his hips.

His cock aches. He ignores it.

The gym tomorrow. And then a run. Maybe a drive to the coast, and a dip in the cold ocean.

It wouldn’t be enough, but it had to be something. John isn’t going to get a minute of sleep, and he’s going to be hearing that cut-off moan for a long, long time.