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#At this point I think I made the most gifs of him
juniperskye · 2 days
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That’ll Show Them.
Based on the following ask: 🥰 yay!! Okay. (Deep breath), so the idea was basically either preschool or elementary school setting. Hotch being a sexy single dad has most of the single (and not!) Moms drooling over him. Y/N or Reader is a single mom, not one of those drooling but definitely sees that he's attractive. But her kid (girl or boy) happens to quickly become Jack's BFF and this causes natural interactions and conversations between her and Hotch over the next few weeks which makes the other moms salty and jealous, and she overhears them at one point speculating that she probably told her kid to befriend Jack just so she could get closer to Hotch. I didn't really think of an ending for it but just had an idea of a scene where she's trying to remain calm and unaffected while overhearing them talking about her and giving side eye. Maybe Hotch hears it too and comes to her defense? Or makes them even saltier by asking her out in front of them? 😈 @nyxwolph thank you for requesting this! I did adjust a little bit, so I hope you like it!!
Aaron Hotchner x Single Mom! Reader
Angst/Fluff
Word count: 3569
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, reader is a single mom, mention of divorce, school moms being shitty, mention of Hotch’s ex father-in-law being ill, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than being shorter than hotch, reader is mentioned/implied to own a shop (no details), gay best friend, Hotch starts work at 8am (idk what the BAU hours are lmao) let me know if I missed any!
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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The moms were ruthless. You were barely three months into the school year and already you had been completely ostracized from the “mom group.” Part of you had assumed it was because the majority of these moms had all caught wind of your very public, messy divorce. The other part of you, however, knew that the main reason you’d been exiled was him.
Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner, as the other moms called him, had taken Ms. Jenson’s third grade class by storm. Meet the teacher night had been a frenzy of horny moms all praying their child ended up in the same class as Aaron’s son. There were hushed conversations and giggles, and hair flips all night long, you had felt bad for the teachers since their presentations had fallen second to the gossip travelling through the halls about the hot single dad.
“I heard he works for the FBI!”
“I heard he’s a widower. Could you even imagine?”
“Wow. He must be pretty amazing, a single dad and working for the FBI!”
“Can we be real for a moment and just admire how hot he is?”
“Did you see his hands?”
“Yes! Did you see his suit? I love a well-dressed man.”
They were vultures, every single one of them, and Aaron was their newest victim. He, of course, had been completely oblivious to the blatant flirting – he returned every advance they made with a kind smile or polite nod. And listen, you weren’t going to deny that Aaron was hot…you just weren’t trying to be like those other moms and gush about it at meet the teacher night.
Your being excluded by the class moms had only gotten worse since Jack and Millie had become friends. Millie had told you on the first day of school, that a boy had pushed her down on the playground, and before you could panic, she told you that a different boy…one named Jack…had helped her up. She said after that, they sat together at lunch and read aloud.
You could barely contain you excitement. Since the divorce, Millie had been having a tough time making friends – mainly because the moms told their kids to stay away. Your ex had been quite cozy with some of the moms at Millie’s last school and you had eventually found out he was sleeping with one of them. Once the divorce was finalized and you had full custody, you’d moved and that meant a new school for Millie.
Realistically that should’ve been the end of the drama, but it just so happens that the girl who your husband slept with…well her sister’s child was in the same class as Millie. He of course was the kid that pushed Millie down on the first day of school.
It shouldn’t have bothered you, their constant whispers…but it had you seething. This was an everyday occurrence now that you drove Jack home. The moms all waiting for dismissal engaging in hushed conversations about how desperate you must be.
“I bet she told her daughter to befriend his son.”
“What a sad way to get his attention.”
“Well, I mean, her ex did cheat���so she’s probably desperate.”
“She’s ridiculous if you ask me.”
This new development has begun exactly two weeks ago. Jack and Millie had been on their sixth playdate – this had been the first one Aaron had been able to host (due to work obvi) which had led to you staying and the two of you talking about how demanding his work schedule must be. He had told you it kept him pretty busy and that his sister-in-law had been extremely helpful, but with her father falling ill, she was growing increasingly busy.
“You know, I could drive Jack. If you’re comfortable with it.” You offered.
“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you!” Aaron panicked.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t ask…I’m offering. I already have to drive to the school to get Millie, I could grab Jack and the two of them could hang out until you are off work. And if your sister-in-law ever can’t watch him while you’re away, know that I am more than willing.” You punctuated with a kind smile.
“What if I take them to school, I don’t need to be at work until eight, and then you could pick them up? That way it is even. Obviously when I’m out of town, which wouldn’t necessarily be possible, but I could coordinate with Jess and…” Aaron was spiraling.
“Aaron. If you want to take them to school when you’re in town, that would be great. That would allow me the time I need in the shop before opening. When you are out of town, if Jack is staying with me, I will take them to and from school – if he’s with Jess, she doesn’t have to worry about Millie okay?” You suggested.
“You’re a godsend. You know that?” Aaron said, a smile growing on his face.
“Yeah well, Jack has been an incredible friend to Millie, and I would love for them to spend more time together. Plus, the house has been so quiet and, I don’t know. It would be nice to have the kids there.” There was a slight cringe that was brought with the insinuation of your divorce.
“I appreciate it either way.” Aaron gently nudged your shoulder.
So, for the last two weeks, Aaron had been driving the kids to school and you had been picking them up. He shockingly had yet to be called on a case…but you knew it was only a matter of time.
Aaron was called away a few days later, he had let you know that Jess would be watching Jack. That had sent a tinge of pain right to your heart. In truth, you were attracted to Aaron, and the more time you spent with him, you were starting to fall for him. You tried not to focus too much on the fact that he’d sent Jack to stay with Jess…chalking up to the fact that Aaron probably didn’t want to burden you – even though he could never.
You didn’t hear from Aaron until nearly two weeks later.
A: Hey, we just got back from this case. I’ll pick Millie up in the morning for school. Are you good to pick up Jack after?
Y: Hey! Yeah I can pick them up tomorrow. I have to take Millie to get her cleats and shin guards for soccer, is it okay if Jack tags along?
A: I totally forgot soccer starts next weekend. If I sent some money in Jack’s backpack could you pick up his stuff too?
Y: Of course! Will you be late tomorrow?
A: Probably, after a case like this, there’s a lot of paperwork to be done. I will try to be there by 7pm if that’s okay.
Y: 7 is fine, we will get homework done and I will feed them and have Jack all ready for you!
A: Thank you. Seriously I don’t know what I’d do without you.
The next day you arrived at the school at 2:45 pm to pick up the kids. You parked your car like always and stood in wait with the other parents. You were checking your phone to see where the nearest sporting goods store was when one of the dads approached you.
“Hey, is Millie ready for soccer to start?”
“Oh, hey Scott! Yeah she is so excited! What about Macy?” You questioned.
“She’s nervous, but she told me she was glad Millie and Jack were playing too. Michael was really bummed that the girls weren’t in a class together this year.” Scott explained.
“I was too! How is Michael? We should all have dinner some time!” You suggested.
“He’s good, and I am sure he would love to have you and your new beau over for a meal – I will talk to him when we get home!” Scott beamed.
“New beau…what are you talking about? Do you mean Aaron? He and I, we’re not…” You stuttered.
“Don’t worry, it’s okay! You should be bragging to all those bitches that you bagged the hot DILF! Don’t let them spoil something good for you hon.” Scott gently squeezed your arm.
Just as you opened your mouth to reply, the kids came running out. Macy ran to hug her dad while Jack and Millie made their way to you. Both kids hugged you and then said their goodbyes to Macy. You moved to grab their hands and guide them to the car, but not without catching the glares from all the moms. They must’ve heard Scott and you talking…and while you and Aaron weren’t dating, it didn’t hurt to let them believe it for a bit.
After getting the kids soccer gear, you took them home and got them started on their homework and gave them some apple slices. You checked a few emails, changed the washer and dryer, and wrote up your grocery list in the meantime.
When they were done with their homework, you checked their work and then quizzed them on their spelling words. By then it was nearly 5:30 pm, you set the two of them up in the living room with a coloring book and some Legos while you got dinner started. You made some grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans – for the kids, you added some cheese to the potatoes and cut up the chicken – setting that on the table for them alongside a glass of chocolate milk.
“Kids, time for dinner!” You hollered.
“Coming mom!” Millie called.
You were about 10 minutes into dinner when a knock sounded from the front door. You excused yourself and walked over to let Aaron in.
“Hey, we were just having dinner, can I get you a plate?” You offered.
“Oh, as long as it’s not an imposition!” Aaron replied.
“Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you that it’s not an imposition. I like having you around.” You stopped abruptly, embarrassed that you’d let that slip. “I mean, you know, it’s nice that Millie and Jack are friends…I uh. I…”
“I know what you mean. And I like having you around too.” He said, finally stepping fully into the house.
Aaron placed a gentle hand on the small of your back to guide you toward the kitchen. You plated him up some food and he joined you at the table, sitting right beside you. You couldn’t help the growing heat that bloomed on your cheeks as his arm brushed against your own. The room was filled with the playful chatter of the eight-year-olds that sat across from you, giggles escaping them as they recounted the events of their day at school.
Glancing over, you noticed the joy radiating from Aaron’s expression. You hadn’t seen him this genuinely happy in all the time you’ve known him, and you wonder if it is because he doesn’t get to relax like this often. The thought allows your mind to drift even further – splaying images of cooking for the four of you all the time, of late nights cuddled with Aaron and even further into the future, welcoming a new child to the family you’ve curated…only it's all in your head.
“You alright?” Aaron whispers. His warm breath against your ear causes a chill to cascade across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, just lost in thought.”
“Hey mom, is Jack’s dad going to be my new dad?” Millie posed, causing you to choke on the bite of chicken you’d just taken.
“Woah, sweetheart you’re okay, just breathe!” Aaron patted your back gently. “Here, take a sip of water.”
Taking a swig, the chicken makes its way down. “Mills…baby where did you get that idea?”
“Well Rain said that his mom said that you were moving in on Jack’s dad, and I thought that if we were moving in, then that would make him my new dad!” Millie smiled.
It was Aaron who choked this time, only it was on his water, causing some of it to certainly escape through his nose. He pulled his napkin to his face as he coughed in an attempt to clear his airway.
“Aar…breathe.” You returned the favor of patting him gently on the back. “Are you okay?”
He answered with a nod and allowed a chuckle to escape his mouth before looking up to meet your gaze. Aaron wasn’t ignorant of the fact that the other moms had been eyeing him since the beginning of the year, he just hadn’t realized that they’d gone after you due to your budding closeness.
“Millie, Rain’s mom is just kidding. Jack’s dad and I are becoming good friends, like you and Jack, and they don’t like that, so they’re saying some not so nice things.” You explained.
“Oh…okay.” Millie said, a small pout gracing her features.
A pout that pulled on not only yours, but also Aaron’s heartstrings. He allowed himself a glance in your direction and took careful note of the hurt and disappointment that flashed across your own features briefly. Was it possible you felt more than you were letting on?
Six days later you received a call at four in the morning. It hadn’t been the thing to wake you up, but it came as a surprise, nonetheless.
“Hello?”
“Hey, I just got a call about a time sensitive case and Jess is dealing with her dad. Would you mind taking Jack while I am away?”
“Aaron, of course! Do you need me to come and get him?”
“No, I will get a bag together for him and drop him off on my way to the office. I am going to leave you with a key to my place just in case Jack needs anything. Thank you for doing this, seriously it means a lot.”
“It’s really not a problem, I will have a bed made up for him by the time you get here.”
“Thanks sweetheart, see you soon.”
With that, Aaron hung up, and for the second time you were taken by surprise at the pet name he so casually referred to you by. You had to remind yourself not to swoon. It wouldn’t do you any good to get into your thoughts about the meaning behind his slip of the tongue.
Jack Hotchner was the most wonderful child you have the privilege of knowing – aside from Millie of course. He was polite and he listened with no pushback. He helped Millie with her chores (cleaning up her toys and putting her clothes in the laundry basket), he didn’t complain, and he just exuded this kindness and joy that brought an extra bit of warmth to your home.
You could see Millie becoming attached and you feared her heart would break once Jack had to go back home. You only hoped that she’d understand that although Jack’s presence isn’t currently permanent, they’d still get to see each other all the time.
Jack stayed with you for five nights, Aaron surprised you all by showing up with a pizza on Saturday evening.
The three of you had been cuddled up on the couch watching Inside Out 2 when the doorbell rang. You shuffled over to the door in your sweats and fuzzy socks to see Aaron standing there in a quarter zip and jeans. Good God, he’s never looked so good.
“Aaron!” You couldn’t hide your excitement.
“Surprise! I brought pizza, I hope cheese is okay.” He inquired.
“Cheese is perfect.” You confirmed. “Kids, dinner is here!”
“Dad!”
Jack ran to embrace his father. Millie, however, stormed off to her room. You were quick to throw Aaron an apologetic glance, before following her down the hall.
“Mills…what’s wrong honey?”
Millie replied with a grumble in her pillow and a shake of her head.
“Baby, I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”
“It’s not fair. Jack doesn’t have a mom, and I don’t have a dad. But when you and Mr. Aaron are together it feels like a normal family. How come you guys can’t just be together?” Millie cried.
“Oh, honey. It’s not that simple bug. Mr. Aaron, well he’s a busy man and I just…” You trailed off.
“Don’t you like him?”
“Mills, yeah I like him, but like I said, it’s not that simple. Even if he liked me back, that wouldn’t just make us a family, it would take some time for us to get serious and then we’d have to decide if that was the right step for us.”
“It is the right step! You guys like each other, and Jack and I get along…mommy it’s perfect! You could be Jack’s mom and Mr. Aaron could be my new dad.” Millie said matter-of-factly.
“Oh honey, is this about your dad?” You pulled Millie into a hug.
“No! He wasn’t nice to me like Mr. Aaron is. Mom I want Mr. Aaron to be my dad.” She whispered as tears stained her cheeks.
“I know honey, me too…me too.” You pressed a kiss to her head. “Baby lets go have some pizza and enjoy our time with Jack and Mr. Aaron, yeah?”
“Okay.”
That night, something shifted. Aaron and you had begun spending more time together, going to soccer practices and games together, taking the kids to the park, the movies, pottery painting places, dinner at your house, game night at his. Aaron had also exclusively been asking you to take Jack while he was away on cases – claiming Jess’ father was getting worse.
Two months passed like this, and things had started to feel very domestic. Millie was asking more and more about Jack being her brother and Aaron her father and you had to explain that even though they weren’t related, even by marriage, that friends could be considered family too.
Once again you were taking care of Jack while Aaron was out of town on a case, only this time it was a little different. Your car was in the shop, so Aaron had let you borrow his car, and today was the last day of school before winter break. The schoolyard was buzzing with anticipation of the final bell, parents were discussing their vacation plans with one another while waiting.
You has been talking to Scott and Michael when Becca approached you.
“You know, I think it’s a sick thing you’ve done, using your daughter to help you prey on a vulnerable man.” She hissed.
“Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?” You shot back.
“Aaron. You had Millie befriend Jack and for what so you could trick Aaron into going out with you? It’s truly despicable behavior. He’s a good man and he deserves someone who is genuine.” Becca spewed.
“I don’t know where you get off, talking to me like that, but I can assure you – ”
“Becca, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t speak to my girlfriend that way. She is the kindest most genuine person I have ever met, and every day she shows me how much she cares for and loves Jack and me. So back off, and maybe don’t speak on things you don’t know anything about.” Aaron bit as his arm snuck its way around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
“I KNEW IT!” Scott shouted.
Becca stormed off with a huff and you turned around to see Aaron wearing a shit eating grin. You couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with disbelief at the fact that Aaron was here right now, he’d stuck up for you, and he’d called you his girlfriend. Yeah, you were fairly sure your brain had short circuited.
“Girlfriend?” Your gaze lifted to meet his.
“You know, I’d been meaning to ask.” He grinned down at you. “What do you say?”
“Yes! Of course!”
Aaron closed the gap between you and captured your lips in a kiss. All the while the moms scoffed and huffed in disbelief that you truly had taken Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner off the market. And before you had a chance to pull away, Jack and Millie came bounding over just in time to catch the last bit of your kiss.
“Does this mean Mr. Aaron can finally be my dad?” Millie asked.
Aaron leaned down to Millie’s level “Mills, I would love nothing more than to be your dad, but we have to take things slow okay? Your mom and I have a lot of grown-up decisions to make before that can happen, so I need you to be patient. Can you do that for me?”
“I can do that!”
You leaned down in front of Jack, wanting to ensure he’s included in all this. “What do you think Jack? Would you be okay with me and your dad being together? It means you and Millie will be together a lot more often.”
“Will you eventually be my mom then?”
“If your dad and I choose to get married eventually, then yeah, I’d be your stepmom.” You explained.
“I think you’d be a really good mom.” Jack wrapped his arms around you.
Aaron and you may have only just made things official, but in the last five or so months, you’d both fallen for each other. Sometimes, things are just right, and all the pieces fall into place naturally. And for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t wait to see where this leads.
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adayumantium · 17 hours
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Logan x Reader Smiling HCS
So I've been thinking abt this a lot but I am SO adamant that Logan wouldn't smile with his teeth for most of his life
His canines, pointed more than most, always reminded him of what he was, or what people saw him to be. He'd give a courteous nod, a thin-lipped grin, and go about his day
But then Logan met you, and you always insisted on him flashing those pearly whites. When you posed for photos, you would nudge him, and he'd hesitantly open up. Sometimes, he looked awkward, but you loved those photos. It showed him trying to be himself.
Eventually, it became second nature. He liked to smile and show them off- it was a trait innately connected to you, and how you made him feel.
Now, all of your photos together have his teeth in them. Sometimes, he's full-blown laughing with you, an open mouthed roar of joy, and those are the ones that you have on your nightstand.
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forhappysake · 17 hours
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Never Forget a Face
A/N - Why is titling fics so hard? I used a Hunger Games quote because it fit so well so lmk if you can pick it out. Nearly 5K words, not proofread.
Summary - After the end of a bloody case, Emily tasks a begrudging Spencer with checking in on the newbie. Warnings - Spencer x fem!reader, typical BAU-level violence, murder, kn!ves, season 12/13 spoilers, extensive handwashing (?), a bitter post-prison reid with a grumpy x sunshine plot
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My hands are stained red.
That was your first coherent thought as you stared in the bathroom mirror. The fluorescent lighting cast a pale glow over your face, making you look more ghostly than you already did. Your once blue shirt was covered in splotches. Your hands, dangling over the sink, were the color of burnt rust. 
As you turned on the faucet and applied soap to your hands, your brain replayed the events that brought you here. 
This was only your second case with the team. Hell, it was only your fourth case with the bureau. All you wanted to do was fit in. You’d heard great things about the BAU: the highly decorated Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, the face of the FBI - Jennifer Jareau, and the sought-after genius of Dr. Spencer Reid. 
The first case with the BAU had gone well. You’d done a lot of the grunt work, putting in an intense number of hours in a dingy police precinct pouring over paperwork with Dr. Reid, who kept telling you to call him Spencer. Despite this faux friendliness, you couldn’t help but get the feeling he was tired of working with you. 
Not that you could blame him. You were, by all definitions, a newbie. He had over a decade of experience and a serious reputation. A genius to boot, his sighs and looks often made you feel like you were in his way more than you were actually helping. Hence why, when Emily had asked for two volunteers to tail a suspect for the day, you’d quickly volunteered to go with the charming Luke Alvez. 
Six hours later, Luke, along with yourself, had tracked an unsub while he was taking his latest victim back to his home in a rural area. Back-up, which was supposed to be on the way, wouldn’t be there for at least twenty minutes. When the first blood-curdling scream rang out from the house, the two of you knew you had no choice but to act alone. 
Luke went in through the front door, making his presence known as you tiptoed around the side of the house to enter undetected. When you found a cracked window, you were able to slip inside without much issue. 
In that moment, you remembered hearing Luke attempting to talk down the unsub. You approached their voices, careful not to let anyone know you were inside. 
“How do you think this is going to end?” Luke asked the unsub, his voice firm. 
The unsub had laughed and the muffled cries of his victim could be heard from your spot. You tucked yourself quietly behind a hallway entrance into the room Luke was in. You peeked around the corner to let him know you were there. His only acknowledgment of you was a brief glance, but that was all you needed to know that he wanted you to stay in place. 
“I think,” the unsub started, with more cries coming from his captive, “that she’ll probably die before this is all over.” 
You tried to recall the profile. Emily’s voice replayed in your mind. 
“He kills with a knife and dumps the body in a secondary location, meaning he gets the women alone and gets close to them before he kills them. Based on the demographics of this region, he’s probably a white man. Likely in his 30s. Attractive but single, most definitely living alone. That’s his selling point. That’s how he’s managed to lure all these women into his vehicle.”
Nothing stuck out to you about him. There was nothing you could think to do to help in this situation besides hide behind the wall. You were waiting for a signal from Luke or the sound of backup approaching. 
Luke cleared his throat and you could picture him shaking his head. “It doesn’t have to be like this, man. Let her go and I can help you.”
The unsub laughed again and you cringed. There was something so unsettling about his voice and his laughter. 
The unsub started to speak, but his voice was cut off by the sound of sirens wailing in the distance. This was your moment. 
You whirled around the corner, gun drawn. “FBI, don’t move,” you warned. The unsub turned to look at you. His cold blue eyes bore a hole in your head. A shiver ran through your spine. “Drop the knife.” 
He appeared irritated, rolling his neck as if trying to work out a kink. He glanced down at his victim. Her eyes were wide and frantic, tears streaming down her face. She was bound and a piece of cloth was tied around her face as a makeshift gag. He pulled her up to his height by her hair, eliciting more cries.
 “Well sweetheart, this isn’t how I pictured this ending for us. I hope you’ll forgive me,” he said as he raised the knife to her throat. 
“Wait!” Luke shouted. 
It was too late. What followed next was nothing short of chaos. 
Luke let off two shots, both of which connected with the unsub. His body cascaded to the floor. You lunged forward at the poor victim. Her throat, now cut, was bleeding at an alarming rate. However, her eyes remained open and the gasps coming from her mouth told you she was still breathing. 
You threw yourself on the floor next to her, removing the gag from her mouth and placing it over her neck as a makeshift tourniquet. 
“Do you hear that?” you asked, the sirens were right outside the house. “Help is almost here, okay? You have to keep your eyes on me.” Her glassy eyes were locked on yours, but the panic was fading from them with the little life she had left. The cloth in your hands was soaked with blood and your hands were turning a deep shade of crimson. 
You shook your head. “No, no. Come on. Look at me,” you tried to encourage her to hold on just for another moment. 
In the midst of your mumbling, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You whirled around to see Luke crouched behind you. 
“She’s gone, Y/N,” he said gently. His eyes were locked on her lifeless body. You furrowed your brow, denial coursing through your veins. 
Just as you were about to protest, the EMTs burst through the door with Emily and Dr. Reid in tow. Luke pulled you out of the way as they tended to both the victim and the unsub. 
The four of you watched helplessly from the corner of the room. You felt your body shake gently, adrenaline getting the best of you. You could feel Reid’s eyes on you. His judgement making you more anxious. 
You watched as one of the EMTs working on the victim turned to look at you. He shook his head gently, a sign that she really was gone. 
You'd never forget her face.
A sigh of defeat left your lips and tears welled up in your eyes. In a moment driven by pure emotion, you shot out of the house and back towards the SUV.
Luke sprinted out the front door after you. “Where are you going?” he shouted, clearly confused by your sudden burst of determination. 
“Back to the hotel,” you said matter-of-factly, sliding into the driver’s seat of the car. He rushed over to the driver’s door, holding it open so you couldn’t slam it shut. 
He looked incredulous. “And who am I supposed to ride with?”
You rolled your eyes. “Luke, two people just died and you’re worried about who your chauffeur is going to be.” 
Luke seemed to get the message he pulled back from the door, allowing you to shut it. You started the SUV, cracking the window just enough to shout, “Catch a ride with Reid and Emily.”
You pulled out onto the highway, foot heavy on the pedal as adrenaline still run through you. 
Nearly half an hour later and still covered in blood, you stumbled into the hotel lobby. The desk lady, panicked, quickly rushed in front of you. The lady, presumably Linda based on her nametag, asked you if she needed to call the police. You’d shown her your badge with a bitter laugh, explaining that you were the police. The smell of her floral perfume was making your head spin more than it already was. Thankfully, with a sympathetic smile, she’d moved out of your way and allowed you to proceed to your room. 
Which was how you ended up here, trying to scrub blood off of your still-shaky hands. You weren’t sure how long you’d been at this, but you couldn’t quit now. The dark evidence was still embedded deep beneath your fingernails. 
-SPENCER’S POV-
Walking into the house behind Emily, I could already see the mess that had unraveled. There was blood on the wall, where the unsub lay propped up but clearly dead as if he’d landed sitting up. There was blood on the floor, covering the lifeless body of the last victim. 
And there was blood all over her, the new girl, who was standing in the corner. Her eyes stared off into the distance, and she looked like she could faint at any moment. 
She was nice. Too innocent for the job, clearly. If I hadn’t been sure about that from the other case we worked together, it was evident now. 
Emily and I walked over to the corner, standing beside Y/N and Luke as the EMTs worked on both the unsub and the victim on the other side of the room. Despite the gory scene before us, I couldn’t bring myself to take my eyes off Y/N yet. Thoughts laced with sympathy crept into my mind and I resisted the urge to reach out and put a hand on her shoulder. 
Just as I was about to do just that, the closest EMT turned to her and shook his head. The victim, as the unsub, was dead. She let out a sound that I could only describe as a shudder before she raced out the front door. 
“What the hell?” Luke asked, following her out. 
Emily sighed, staring at the two bodies before us as the EMTs packed up their things. “Kind of a harsh second case for the kid, huh?” she asked. 
I thought for a moment and shrugged, pushing sympathy away. “It’s not like it gets any easier from here on out, she might as well get used to it now.” I turned and started to walk out of the house, just in time to watch the new girl whip the SUV out of the driveway and hightail it back towards town. Though I wasn’t looking at her, I felt Emily shoot me a look. 
“You’d have never said a thing like that before you went away, Spencer,” she scolded. 
I took a deep breath. She was probably right. “No, I wouldn’t have, but things are different now,” I said plainly. 
I walked down the front porch steps and out on to the lawn where Luke was waiting for us, impatiently resting a hand on the handle of the SUV’s door. 
“Where’s your ride?” I quipped sarcastically. 
He shook his head. “Don’t start. It’s been a long day for all of us.” 
Emily caught up to me, pulling the SUV keys out of her pocket and unlocking the door so Luke could climb inside. As he did, she turned to me. 
“When we get back to the hotel, I want you to go check on Y/N.”
I felt my face contort in a scoff. “Why would I be the one to do that?” 
“Because,” Emily said, staring at the SUV before us, “someone needs to.” 
“So why don’t you?” I challenged, growing more exasperated by the second. 
Emily snapped her head to the side, her eyes shooting daggers at me. “Spencer,” she said sharply. I looked at her, trying to read her microexpressions. “I worry about you. Do you get that?” 
That wasn’t the reply I was expecting. 
I averted my eyes to the ground, somewhat ashamed of my previous attitude. “Yeah, I know.” 
“I want you to check on her because she needs someone who has seen bad things to explain to her that those bad things are survivable,” she started, eyes still locked on my face. I glanced up at her as she continued. 
“And, I want you to check on her because I think it would be good for you,” she finished. 
“Good for me?” I asked, with less attitude and more curiosity this time. 
Emily sensed the shift in my demeanor and I could see her shoulders relax. “Yes, good for you. Ever since you came back, you never stay out after cases anymore. Remember how we all used to go out together? Have a couple drinks? Relax?” 
I nodded because I did remember.  Those were some of the best memories of my life. 
“All you do anymore is go home or back to the hotels and hide in your room until the next morning, reading Vigotsky or Tarkovsky or whatever you do.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was reading the works of Dostoyevsky, so I let her continue uninterrupted. 
“It’s time for you to do some socializing. I think talking about yourself might do you some good for once. Besides, Y/N really is a ray of sunshine once you get to know her. I think her company will be good for you.” 
I thought about what she said for a moment. She wasn’t entirely wrong. “Alright,” I said, “I’ll stop by her room before I go to bed for the night.”
Satisfied with my answer, Emily proceeded to the SUV. 
Soon enough, we were back at the hotel. I thought about how to proceed. Should I go to her room immediately? Should I wait and change out of my work clothes first? 
Absolutely not. Talking is one thing. Wearing my pajamas in front of her? That’s too personal. 
I decided to head straight to her room. Ripping the bandaid off seemed like the best option. 
I strolled down the hall and stopped in front of her door. I placed three quick knocks on the door and waited. And waited. I knocked again. Nothing. 
Maybe she’d gone out for the evening, I reasoned. Or, maybe she was asleep. Regardless, I was ready to turn and go back to my room when I heard the faintest sound of running water coming from inside. 
My mind raced. She was surely just in the shower, right? Or maybe running a bath? The FBI agent in me freaked out. What if she’d went off the deep end and was trying to drown herself? Or what if-
I tried to run through my options, the first obvious one being to try the door handle, which was miraculously unlocked. Who the hell leaves their door unlocked in a cheap hotel like this?
“Y/N?” I called out as I stepped into the room. The bathroom door was wide open to the left of the main door I just entered, and I peered around the corner. 
She stood before the sink, eyes locked on her hands which appeared to be scrubbed nearly raw. I walked inside, concern building by the moment. “What are you doing?” I asked. 
She didn’t hear me - or she ignored me if she did. She continued scrubbing her hands diligently. I leaned forward to get a better look. A few red streaks ran off her hand and down the sink, but I wasn’t so sure what she was washing off was the victim’s blood anymore. 
“Y/N, stop. You’re hurting yourself,” I scolded. Her motions continued. She seemed dazed and unaware of my presence. She was surely in some kind of shock. 
As I stood behind her, I felt as though the scrubbing intensified. I made a snap decision. Stepping forward, I placed my arms on either side of her body, caging her in around the sink as I firmly grabbed her forearms and separated her hands. 
She jumped violently, enough for me to release her arms from my grip and back away quickly. 
“My god, Dr. Reid. How long have you been here?” she asked as her voice shook. She looked exhausted and her hands were bright red. Red lines where she’d repeatedly used her nails to scrape at the skin caught my eye. I pulled my gaze away from her hands, making eye contact with her for the first time. “I came to check on you, after everything. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”
She looked down at her hands, the realization of what she had done became apparent as she flexed her fingers and winced. 
“Looks like I came at the right time,” I said quietly, more to myself than to her. 
She shook her head incredulously before she began apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Reid. I have no idea why I was doing that. You shouldn’t have had to-” 
I shrugged. “It happens.”
Silence filled the room as I noticed she was still in her blood-soaked clothes. Thoughts whirled through my mind, but I couldn’t form a coherent thought. Words were pouring out of my mouth without my approval. 
 “Here’s what I purpose,” I said before I could stop myself. “Take a shower, get changed, and meet me in my room for a few minutes. I just want to talk to you about a some things.”
 She stared at the floor. I almost thought she was going to say no. 
“Okay,” she whispered. 
I nodded, heading for the bathroom door. “Room 91A. And please, call me Spencer,” I stated. Not waiting for her response, I shut the bathroom door behind me and locked her hotel door on my way out.
-READER POV-
You felt like you were in trouble. 
You know when you’re merely a child and you get in trouble in the middle of class? You know the feeling of your stomach sinking as you walk to the principal’s office?
That was the only way you could describe walking to Dr. Reid’s - Spencer’s - room. 
After a shower that stung your hands and brought tears to your eyes, you slipped into some comfy clothes and wrapped gauze around the rawest parts of your palms, before heading to his room. 
Room 91A. You tapped your knuckles on the door twice. You heard shuffling from inside the room. Spencer stood before you, also showered, also in his pajamas. 
This caught you by surprise. He could tell by the way your eyebrows shot up at his appearance. “I figured we might as well be comfortable with one another,” he said before stepping out of the way. “Come in.”
You brushed past him as you walked inside. Though it was just a hotel room, something about the stack of books on the side table and paperwork scattered on the desk brought a small smile to your face. 
One book in particular laid face up on the edge of the bed. “Dostoyevsky?” you asked. 
Spencer raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by your question. “Yes. Have you read his work?” 
You nodded, glancing up at him as you ran your hand over the cover of the book, tracing the engraving on the cover of the antique copy. “Everybody knows Crime and Punishment, but I prefer White Nights.” 
You’d caught him off guard. “I didn’t know you were interested in Russian literature,” he said, walking to the other side of the room and taking a seat in one of the two armchairs positioned in the corner, “or any literature, for that matter.” 
You shrugged. “We’ve only known each other for two weeks. I’m not sure why you’d have any idea.” 
His stare faltered, and you caught him averting his eyes to the floor as he leaned back in the chair. “I should have asked. I haven’t been very kind to you. I haven’t done a very good job of making you feel welcome here,” he started cautiously. 
That caught your attention. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but your first response was to reassure him. “It’s no problem, Spencer. It’s been so busy that I haven’t had time to get to know anyone very well.” You perched yourself on the edge of the bed, watching him carefully. 
“That isn’t true,” he said matter of factly. 
“Excuse me?” you asked, genuinely confused as to if you heard him right. 
Spencer cleared his throat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the tops of his thighs. His hands folded and he used them as a rest for his chin. You could see the gears turning in his head. 
“I said that it isn’t true. You have gotten to know everyone quite well, from what I gather,” Spencer said. 
Before you could respond, he started in again. “I’ve seen pictures of you with Luke and Penelope at the club after the last case. I know you went to lunch with Will and JJ. She says you’re fantastic with Henry and Michael. Tara told me you helped Rossi finish the thousand piece puzzle he’s had splayed out on his office table for two months. All this while Emily claims you’re a ray of sunshine.” 
Your mouth had fallen open a bit in the midst of his confession. You tried to think of an appropriate response. “Well, yes. That’s all true. But I don’t expect you to go out of your way to get to know me. I’m a people person.” You pointed to the books on his side table. “You, on the other hand, seem to prefer quiet time alone. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
The room was silent for a moment. The sound of Spencer’s foot tapping quietly against the floor kept the time. One, two, three… 
“I didn’t used to be this way,” he said frankly. 
You glanced at him, trying to read his expression. His face was stoic. He didn’t look particularly upset, though he surely wasn’t happy either. He ran a lone hand through his hair and brushed a few solitary curls from his eyes. 
“I know,” you responded. 
He furrowed his brow at you, confusion written all over his face. You rose from the bed and approached him before plopping down in the armchair next to his. 
“You know how, for us normal people, we spend a few years in training before we actually get a real assignment?” you asked. 
He nodded. 
“I’ve been with the Bureau in that capacity going on four years,” you started, eyes locked on the wall across from you. “My third year, there were rumors about an FBI agent spending time in prison for some high-level crime. People theorized it was connected to drug running, treason, even murder.”
Spencer cringed. 
“For the longest time, I thought it was a rumor. I forgot about it and I got an internship in Internal Affairs,” you continued. “One day, my boss handed me this huge file, full of reports going back over a decade.”
He was curious now, staring at you intensely as you did your best not to melt under his gaze. 
“If you haven’t figured it out yet, that was your file. One section was full of every report you’d ever written. The other section was what the Department of Justice had collected in an attempt to convict you in the fall.” 
This was new information to Spencer, who felt himself let out a bitter laugh. You paused to look at him. 
“I’m not sure why I’m surprised by that,” he said sourly. “I knew then they would want to be as far away from the case as possible. No wonder it was easier for them to try to keep me in there.” 
You shrugged, continuing. “I guess Emily had called in a favor with Internal Affairs. I was tasked with finding proof of innocence.” 
“And?” Spencer asked. 
“I couldn’t find any,” you stated simply. He nodded. “But I never forgot the file, especially the pictures inside. I never forget a face. Reading through your life with the Bureau, seeing the sequence of ID images each year as you got older, maybe even colder. That stuck with me for some reason.”
He appeared intrigued and was clearly doing his best not to interrupt. 
“When I woke up one morning and saw this huge CBS headline about the DOJ dropping the charges against a wrongly accused agent, I felt a strange kind of vindication,” you admitted. “Nine months later I got a call from Emily, asking me to come in for an interview. Two months later, now we’re here.”  
“Now we’re here,” he repeated. 
You cleared your throat. “What I didn’t bank on when I joined the BAU, was the same face from that file would be across from me at the table every day.”
You turned to him to find he was already looking at you, and you offered him a small smile. “All this to say,” you whispered, “I think you have every reason not to be friendly with the new hire.” 
The room was silent once more, the two of you sneaking glances at each other. Spencer was the first to break the silence. 
“Emily sent me to check on you because she thought it would be good for both of us,” he confessed. “She said you should see me as an example that people can get through bad things, and that I needed to get out of my head and into the real world.” 
You were quiet for a moment before shifting in the chair. You thought of everything you’d seen over the last twelve hours.
“I never forget a face,” you whispered again, thinking back to the victim on the floor. Her glassy eyes staring up at your own. 
Spencer nodded. “Me either.” 
“So how do you do it?” you asked him. 
He turned to you. You swore you could see tears forming in his eyes. 
“I find that there's always that little moment right when you wake up in the morning, when everything's good, because your mind has temporarily forgotten the bad stuff.”
You smiled as he continued. “At night, when I can’t sleep, I make a list in my head of all the good things I've seen someone do. Every little thing I can remember. It's like a game.”
You tried to think about every good thing you’d ever seen someone do and tears welled in your eyes. “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” you said. 
“It works sometimes,” Spencer smiled. He moved forward, placing a hand on your knee. You looked up at him. The two of you stared at each other. 
“You have to know that you’ll never fully forget these things, but we get through it as a team,” he finished. 
The tears welled up in your eyes spilled over, and you noticed that a few of his own had to. The hand on your knee moved up, wiping the fallen tears from your cheeks.
After a moment of letting the tears dry, you rose from the chair. “I really appreciate this, Spencer. I’m sorry that you had to go out of your way to help me, but I am very grateful.” 
He stood, towering over you. “It’s not a problem. I enjoyed talking to you.” 
“I enjoyed talking to you too,” you said with a smile. You stood next to him for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his close proximity before you snapped out of it. “Well, I should probably go back to my room and let you get back to your work.”
You turned from him and walked towards the door, pausing only when you heard his voice call after you. 
“Y/N,” he said, taking a few steps in your direction to where you’d crossed the room. 
“Yeah, Spencer?” you said, turning to face him. 
He faltered, his eyes finding the floor again. “I just,” Spencer stuttered for a moment, trying to regain his cool. “I was wondering if you wanted to stay. Stay and talk, of course. I-” he paused a moment more. Spencer took a deep breath. “I think Emily was right. I do enjoy your company and I’d like you to stay for a while,” he said firmly. 
You couldn’t hide the surprise on your face. Spencer saw it, too, quickly rushing to give you an out. 
“You don’t have to, of course,” he rushed. His cheeks burned red. 
“No, I don’t have to,” you said. “But I’d like to.” 
You saw his shoulders relax as the tension left his body. 
“Great,” Spencer nodded. He sounded relieved. 
You walked over to the armchair, plopping back down next to him. “Right, so,” you started, “What’s your topic of choice, Spence?” 
The use of his nickname brought the blush back to his cheeks as he scurried back into the chair next to you. 
He glanced at the books on the side table, the topic of conversation coming to him quickly. “Tell me,” Spencer started, “What resonates with you about the White Lady?”
You smiled before diving into a summary that not only analyzed the text but connected it to your own life. You thought your heart skipped a beat when you caught a glimpse of Spencer smiling warmly at you as you rambled. 
It was a long, interesting, conversation-filled night. 
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kingsoowolves · 2 days
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what comes after | jsc
pairing: college fwb!sungchan x fem!reader word count: 21.4k
author’s note: soooo, I’m back to writing after a long break. this is my first riize fic and Sungchan practically hauled this monster out of my insides until it became 21k. I wrote most of this while listening to sabrina carpenter’s new album and i think sharpest tool, juno and lie to girls fit really well with the theme of this work. english is not my first language, so please be kind if you're going to point out any mistakes. I hope you guys like this.
contents: smut. some fluff. angst, angst & angst (specially towards the end). switch!reader and switch!sungchan. sex with a condom, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving). pet names. ass man!sungchan. reader has thoughts on family trauma and self-hatred. random idols mentioned for worldbuilding. sungchan is pretty much an asshole in the end. no HEA.
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You feel pathetic. With a raincoat covered in water splatters and standing on your favorite white sneakers – now mud covered and wet – in front of your situationship’s apartment after ringing the doorbell, you truly feel like an idiot.
It’s been over two weeks since he last texted you and here you are, waiting for him to open his door after calling him on a whim, asking for permission to come and see him. But it was a rough day in a rough week in a rough month in a rough trimester and when you finished your last exam of the day and the rain started pouring down while you were on the bus on your way home, your heart made a last-minute decision to ring him up.
So now here you are, feeling pathetic.
Surprisingly, despite the radio silence for the last fortnight, the door opens quickly to reveal a worried Sungchan with a fresh and fluffy towel in his hands as he urges you inside, hand clasping over yours to pull you away from the cold and into the warmth of his home.
He closes the door with his free hand and his eyes instantly fall onto your body to inspect the damage caused by the storm, the dirt and the finals. You can’t help but feel heat under his gaze, your limbs already growing hot after being in his presence for two seconds. It’s your body's natural response to him since the day you met.
“Why didn’t you call me after you finished your exam?” are his first words to you as his hands take your bag and your raincoat off of your arms, both items falling on the floor around your ankles. “I would’ve picked you up.”
The way he says it almost makes you want to apologize for not doing it, but, in all honesty, you don’t quite believe he would’ve picked you up. Two weeks of not talking is a considerable amount of time, after all. So you bite your tongue and reply with the second thing that comes on your head instead.
“Didn’t even think about it. The rain started after I took the bus,” you say, feeling him wrap you in the towel he brought, hands pressing on your arms to make it absorb the rainwater covering you.
He stays silent as he dries you up, expertly and swiftly moving the towel over the areas of your body that were most affected by the downpour, his furrowed eyebrows showing his concentration. You have to actively stop yourself from reaching up to smooth them over, your hands itching to touch him. But in just fifteen seconds your upper half is dried and he squats down to inspect your legs.
He stops with his right hand on your left calf, looking up at you once he sees the mud covering your jeans.
“Shit, you’re a mess,” he sighs, a small chuckle coming out of his throat, too. “You’re gonna have to take a shower.”
“Oh,” you say, mind still understanding his request while your eyes focus on his. After a beat, you realize that you feel kind of insecure of showering in his place when you don’t know where you both stand on your relationship, so you shake your head. “I can go home to shower and come back later, if it’s okay with you.”
He shakes his head back at you. “No, it’s not. That’d be dumb,” he says, standing up in his full height and making you change your gaze from looking down to looking up at him. You feel a pang in your chest at the rejection, thinking he’s saying it would be stupid to come back to him after, but he smooths one hand over your shoulder and clarifies. “Why would you do that when there’s a perfectly good bathroom here you can use?”
You blink at him, your head again very slow in keeping up with his words. Maybe it’s because it’s been a rough day in a rough week in a rough month in a rough trimester. Maybe it’s because your last brain cell was burned while taking your international law exam. Maybe it’s being close with him again after some time, seeing his deep brown eyes, smelling his cologne and standing in his apartment that makes you so dull. Maybe it’s every one of those reasons. At this moment, you think you’re more pathetic than ever.
And you’re pretty sure Sungchan thinks you are, too, because his features crease again as he looks at you, taking a step back and tugging on your hand to come with him. “Come on. I’ll put your clothes in the washer while you shower.”
You quickly step on the heels of your shoes to take them off and follow him down the hallway to the small bathroom by the end of it. Sungchan fetches you a sealed bar of soap from the cabinet under the sink and a new fluffy towel from his dresser. Then, he waits outside of the bathroom for you to strip off your clothes and hand him every piece – hoodie, shirt, pants, undergarments and socks – through the half open door. He smiles at you for only a second before turning on his heels to take the clothes to the washer, saying you can take your time.
You leave the door leaning on its threshold, not quite closed, because, first of all, Sungchan has seen you naked multiple times and there’s no reason to be shy now, and second of all, you half expect him to come join you. So, you step in the shower, the white tiles cold against your toes as you turn the tap to burning hot just how you like it.
It’s relaxing having the heated water hitting your naked skin after being out in the cold with wet clothes for minutes that felt like years. You indulge yourself in it, sighing and letting your limbs loose, facing down and resting the top of your head against the tiles under the head of the shower, moving your body to fully stand under the water to feel it hit your shoulders as your mind travels back to Sungchan. It’s hard to over analyze his every move, touch and word when he’s just a few steps from you. But you’re an expert on doing that in every possible scenario by now. So, you recall every second of your five-minute interaction with him since you stepped inside his place, trying to look for signs of anything. You try to discover if he’s bothered by your presence or if he looked happy to see you, if he helped you out because of his affection or just general kindness, if he was worried because he cares about you in a special way or just because he cares. Still, you can’t come up with answers to your doubts because he was always pretty hard to read anyway.
You try to discover if he’s bothered by your presence or if he looked happy to see you, if he helped you out because of his affection or just general kindness, if he was worried because he cares about you in a special way or just because he cares. Still, you can’t come up with answers to your doubts because he was always pretty hard to read anyway.
Sungchan is a man of few actions and even lesser words. Although you’ve seen him being comfortable and goofy around friends, he often keeps to himself and can even be described as a shy person most of the days. Even though his playful side comes up occasionally when he’s with you, most of the time you are met with silence that makes you conjecture a million theories that are never proven.
Plus, you’re achingly jumbled today and the truth is you always feel foolish around him. Like your strong attraction to him makes you dim-witted, tongue-tied and incoherent. Just like the first time you ever saw him.
The first time you ever saw him was in your freshman year in the second semester at college, in your Ethics class. He’s a STEM major, which obviously meant he was taking it for an extra credit, but you didn’t know that yet when you walked into the east building expecting to see a class filled with law students and came across the tall and hot math nerd.
One moment, you are hurriedly walking up the steps to your seat as the lecture hall fills with scholars and your professor takes his place in front of the board. In the next one, you’re bumping into a desk and sending a collection of papers and one very pricey scientific calculator to fall on the ground with loud bangs and blasts. You’re desperate as you squat down and rest your books on the following step to search for the batteries and the hood of the calculator that flew around during your mishap. And as your hand finds the last battery missing, another hand clasps over it to retrieve the item and you glance up to meet Sungchan’s eyes. You both stand up at the same time, in which you notice how tall he is, your senses taking in his soft hair, strong grip and big eyes surrounded by his glasses’ frame. And then you flinch, taking your hand back from his and muttering a small hushed apology before walking the last steps to your desk and avoiding eye contact with him for the rest of the lesson.
When class is dismissed, despite feeling extremely embarrassed, you gather up your courage and walk down to his desk to apologize profusely, saying how deeply bad you’re feeling and asking if his calculator is still working or if you have to work out a plan to pay for a new one for him.
“Don’t worry. It’s working fine,” he says, the sound of his voice sending a crazy shiver up your spine you never felt before. The first one of many to come. “But if you’re feeling deeply bad about it, you can take me out for dinner.”
You blink at him. The first one of many dim-witted moments to come in his presence. And he chuckles, fingers brushing over your elbow as he steps back from his desk and maneuvers you fully in front of him. You feel your organs internally jolting, like you’ve been struck by an electric shock or like you were numb and dead until now and have suddenly been relieved by a crazy scientist. And it’s all because of his small touch.
“I’m kidding,” he announces after you fail to reply, removing his hand from you, his eyes looking down and the tips of his ears tinting red as he says it. “We’re fine. There’s no need to apologize anymore.”
“Thank you for being so understanding,” you reply, finally getting out of your head and finding your voice again after being revived by his fingertips. “Really. Most people wouldn’t be this chill.”
He walks around you with one hand on the strap of his backpack and steps down two levels of the stairs, becoming almost eye-level with you when he raises an eyebrow up and says, “Guess I’m not like most people.”
And then he turns his back on you, finishing the final steps of the lecture hall and getting out as you stupidly blink at his back.
It’s ridiculous how much you become obsessed with him after that.
Even though you consider yourself smart enough to not develop a crush on your first year of college, you walk head first into that booby trap. Very quickly and happily, too. 
It takes you a few days after your first meeting to learn that he’s actually a sophomore majoring in biological engineering, which didn’t help at all, because your social sciences brain couldn’t understand a thing about STEM. You also learn that he’s originally from another state and that, yes, he is in your Ethics class for an extra credit. From observing him in your shared class, you figure out he actually keeps to himself and likes to doodle on his textbook while the professor is talking. From a couple of shared acquaintances, you’re told that he’s shy, has never been seen with a partner before and doesn’t really attend parties. He’s a quiet one, they say. So much so that when you tell the person that he jokingly asked you out when you bumped into him, they don’t quite believe you.
As the weeks go by with no new interaction between you two except for the few stolen glances you throw his way during lessons, you start to think you imagined the whole thing. The electric buzz in your inner system when he touched you, the blush on his cheeks and ears, the way his eyes scanned you up and down and how his hand lingered a little too long on your arm… It could all just be a fleeting moment. Or only a natural response of your body from seeing and being close to such an attractive person. It certainly couldn’t mean anything special. You convince yourself that it meant nothing.
And then, the next day, you see him at a café close to campus. He’s there with a few close friends, chatting up and joking with each other, and you’re intrigued by how his smiles are easier to appear and how loud he can laugh in a candid and carefree moment. Also, you feel that same attraction again. That gut-punching-needing-to-be-closer magnetic pull between you two. It makes your nerves stand on end, goosebumps raise all over your body and your focus zero on him. It makes your skin prickle, like every atom of your body is buzzing in excitement and craving to be touched by him. And by the way Sungchan’s breath catches when his eyes meet yours and his posture changes, secretly eyeing you up and down every chance he gets, you can tell he feels it, too.
But it takes so long for you to be close to him. Being from strikingly different majors, you are almost never in the same parts of campus. Apart from the class you two met in and the programming class you took in your sophomore year – which you swore to your friends it was just because you were curious about it and not because of the student body attending to it – you mostly live different lives and stand out of each other's ways.
However, slowly and surely, your life becomes intertwined with his, like someone is playing puzzles with the pieces of you both. First, you become a TA to your environmental law Professor and end up tutoring one-on-one with his cousin Sungho. One day, while you are reviewing the paper he wrote for his class, Sungho tells you how Sungchan said “she’s super hot” when he told him you were his TA. You have to hide your smile behind the paper sheets in your hands to not give away that you’re attracted to him and scold Sungho for distracting you. That’s the first time you have actual evidence of Sungchan’s interest in you and it makes you smile for days.
Then, one of your friends starts hooking up with one of his friends and soon enough you are hanging out together in the same group. It helps you discover new things about him to obsess about. Like how he has the cutest mole on the corner of his upper lip you just need to drop a kiss on. And how his closest friends often call him Jinsu and how he always smiles when he hears it. You learn he’s a gym rat. And that he’s always down to help his peers whenever they have a problem and need a hand. It’s so freaking adorable.
And then, you both join in an extracurricular philosophy workshop you could’ve sworn you heard him ask Haneul, your friend, when was the final date of submission to in one of your hangouts. All these new opportunities to meet him frequently allow you to actually talk to him a few times, and soon enough you're sharing stories about your lives, joking and flirting with each other.
And that’s how, finally, in your junior year of college, your and Sungchan’s paths are unmistakably crossed and you become actual friends. So, when you surprisingly see him at a frat party, it’s natural for you to greet him while he plays Super Mario Bros with his friend Sohee. You strike a conversation about how you thought he didn’t like parties and Sungchan confirms it’s true and tells you how Sohee is a member of the fraternity and actually dragged him there. You laugh at his antics and then he jokes about something else so you smile again.
You want to sit next to him to keep your conversation going, but there’s a bunch of people littered across the room in various stages of drunkenness and practically no space left on the couch he’s on. Sungchan notices your eyes searching for a spot and makes as much room as he can, pulling you to sit on the arm of the sofa next to him. Then, he slings one arm around your body, keeping you steady and close to him, and rests his hand on your lap, his other hand joining from your opposite side with the video game controller. While he fixes his grip on the controller to keep playing, his knuckles graze your jeans clad thighs and you realize that you’re trapped around his arms for the time being.
It makes you instantly go rigid, his sudden closeness already making you dizzy and short of breath. And then, like it’s an afterthought of his, Sungchan leans on your side and looks up at you, his eyes carefully watching your reaction as he asks, “Is this okay?”
You purse your lips together and nod even though the thumping of your heart is so loud in your ears you’re not sure you heard him correctly. “Yeah.”
He nods back at you, a close-lipped smile appearing on his lips as he focuses back on the game playing on the TV. You have to concentrate on keeping your breaths steady as the side of his face brushes your arms, his hair soft and his stubble rough on your skin. You have to bite on your lower lip to keep yourself from sighing when his hands press on your thighs or on your lower stomach, controller lying in your lap as he waits for the game to load. Only after a while you feel comfortable enough to sit back against the cushions and let your hand wander to his shoulders, trembling fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt because your hormones are in a frenzy inside of you.
“You having fun?” He asks after they finish off a match on the game, hot breath falling over your arm and sending an electrical current on your body.
“Yeah. Until now, at least,” you reply, dangling your feet under you to give you something to focus on that it’s not him.
“Wanna have more fun?” He asks, and there’s an unmistakable glint in his eye that sends butterflies flying around in your stomach.
“Like what?” You reply, purposely leaning into the obvious sinful intentions laced in his words.
“We can get out of here,” he says then, fingers twitching the hem of your shirt and brushing on your skin, eyes scanning over your features and looking for any signs that you’re uncomfortable by his actions or words. He licks his lips when he notices how your eyes drop to his mouth and moves his hand to play with a strand of your hair before finishing off his proposition. “Have a drink somewhere more private… If you want.”
You know that the drink is an excuse for something else and that somewhere more private is actually his house. But you’ve been wanting this for so long that you have no desire to play it cool or pretend you don’t want this.
“Sure,” is all you reply, accepting whatever fate has in store for you now.
When Sungchan gets up from the couch and says goodbyes to his friends, he grabs your hand for you two to leave together, checking your eyes one last time to be sure you’re willing to do this just as much as him. You smile at him and that seems to be enough to placate his worries, because he smiles back and pushes you to follow through. You know you’ll kiss him as you make your way down the stairs of the frat house, one hand still gripping Sungchan’s and the other texting your friends to let them know you’re leaving with him. You know you’ll at least make out when he shields your side, protecting you from any unsteady drunk that may trip over you as you try to reach the door out of the house. And you’re pretty sure you’ll fuck as you both wait on the sidewalk for the Uber he asked for, his hand intertwined with yours as he hums along with the music from the party.
Still, you pretend like you’re naïve and clueless just for the mystery still hanging in the air.
Once the car pulls up on the curb, Sungchan leads you inside and enters after. He still holds your hand, resting it against his thigh as you take the left seat of the car and he sits back on the right one. The middle seat between you both is vacant and none of you make a move to sit closer to one another. You can cut the tension with a knife as soon as the car moves and the music from the party fades away. Slowly, he starts to play with your hand, rubbing and grabbing at your knuckles and you hold your breath. A moment later, your palm is up on his lap as he spreads your fingers open, his nails softly grazing the length of each and every one of them. He chuckles when the action makes you shiver and you hide your face with your free hand from embarrassment, turning away to look out the window. But then he changes places, splaying his fingers so you can rub your nails on the length of them now, and the same shudder that ran through you takes over Sungchan’s body, a cute blush appearing on his cheeks. Sungchan is a man of few actions and even lesser words. But in that moment, using just the palm of your hands, he chose to become vulnerable to you. His attitude says this is real and I feel it too. And you can’t be more grateful for him finally dropping the mysterious act and becoming transparent for once. At that, you smile and he intertwines his fingers with yours, clutching your hand fully.
You both stop watching your hands to finally look at one another. He sighs contentedly under your gaze and his free hand, the one that isn’t already attached to yours, finds its way on your face, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. His eyes slip to your lips and back to your eyes, searching for something. And only after you nod at him, he dives in, capturing your mouth on his and successfully filling the space in between your seats, leaning his body on yours.
You’ve never been kissed like this before, with so much energy you feel renewed. But you try not to think too much about it and instead feel it as you reciprocate the kiss, your lips and hands restless to show him just how much you felt for him for the past two years.
Sungchan keeps kissing you as the car stops its journey and the driver has to announce you arrived. He keeps kissing you while you walk up the steps of his building to find his apartment. He keeps kissing you whilst he punches the code on his door to get it open. He is still kissing you as you take off your shoes and coats by the hall and he’s leading you inside, whispering a breathless “this is my place” that drives you both into a fit of giggles. He kisses you inside his room, on his bed, as he takes off your clothes. He kisses you even when he puts on the condom and you jerk him off before he slides inside you. He keeps kissing you whilst you adjust to his size and ask him to move faster. When he’s fucking you, he kisses every part of you his lips can reach – your forehead, your cheek, the tip of your nose, your eyebrows, your neck, your ears, your shoulders, your clavicle and your boobs. You think his mouth never leaves your body, never fully at least, when he kisses your lips again whilst you tell him you’re so close. And as you cum, walls spasming and squeezing his cock to milk him dry from his own orgasm, he kisses you one more time.
After, when you’re lying in bed spent and he spoons you, he tells you how much he wanted to do this the first time you met. How you short-circuited his system and made him ask you out on that first moment and how serious he actually was about that. How he didn’t know what to do with himself when you didn’t reply. You chuckle at his confession and let the night wash away his words as you’re lulled to sleep by his warm skin on yours and his groggy soft voice. Before the slumber overtakes you, you swallow the words of your own confession that are burning on your tongue, thinking you’ll have the time to tell him later.
And that’s how you end up here, in a seven-month situationship with him, never quite speaking those words.
By now, it’s nuts the kind of power Sungchan holds over you. And you’re not sure he even knows it. Your relationship – if it even can be called that – is, for the most part, purely skin-on-skin raw sexual desire. Every time you are near Sungchan, you are energetic, your hormones kicking into high gear. For some time, you thought that after a few times sleeping together, you’d be able to get over it and get him out of your system. You hoped that your attraction to him would pass or that it would at least dim. That hooking up would get so common it’d turn boring, that you wouldn’t get the jitters around him anymore or that you’d run out of things to experience and new kinks to try out.
But every time you do it – every time, without fail – you finish it wanting more. You keep coming back to his arms and he keeps letting you in. The chemistry is still off the charts.
You love the way his calloused hands touch you and his soft lips kiss you. You’re crazy about how he has memorized all of your body parts and all of your ticks to make you scream with pleasure in bed. You’re obsessed with how he’s had your skin marked up with his fingers, teeth and scent. You’re captivated by his filthy words on your ear and his gentle hard thrusts against your hips. You’re fixated by how his dick fits perfectly inside you and how he knows how to make you cum in minutes. And you’re haunted by the fact that all of that combined might mean that you are in love with him.
Because sometimes, when you’re not fucking or going about all the stops that would lead you to fuck, you feel genuine deep attachment with him.
In a rare moment he laughs when you tell him how you argued with your crazy conservative forensics’ Professor in front of the Dean in a criminology symposium because he dared to assume asexual women are frigid. Or he lets you lay your head on his chest as he tells you how he and his roommate Shotaro became friends. Or he places a piece of your hair over your ear while you eat dinner together at the pizza place near your place. Or you belt out early 2000’s music together on his beat-up Kia Sephia 1993 while you drive around town. Or you tell him about wanting to change your major to Literature, that you never planned to take Law in the first place, and he encourages you to do what you really want. Or you both stay up late sharing your fears and uncertainties about life after college. Or he pulls you into his arms, holding you closer and tightly against him because your body drifted away from him while sleeping. Or he tells you how he loves your caresses as you pet his hair to lull him back to sleep while the rising sun infiltrates through his room curtains. Or he says he remembered you during the day because he saw your favorite flower blossoming near the building to his calculus class. Or he not so casually asks who was the guy you were talking too close with the last time he saw you on campus, jealousy shining in his eyes. Or he reads the latest philosophy book you recommended and gives you an in-depth review of all the points he found important. Or he buys you a cupcake when you meet up a day after your birthday and acts nonchalant, tips of his ear becoming red, as you ask him what it is for. Or he sends you a Spotify playlist of an artist he thinks you’d really like the sound. Or he asks how your grandmother is doing a few days after you came back from a quick trip home because she was sick.
In those rare moments, you hold yourself together to not bawl your eyes out because of his kind gestures. It’s hard not feeling sentimental being treated with the minimal tenderness when you grew up in a house with strict rules and no space for feelings. Of course, there were the frequent occasions where your parents would scream their lungs out at each other saying the nastiest stuff you ever heard, but, other than that, feelings were bottled up and could only come out in screeches if you were an adult. Your parents turned their maximum effort to make sure food was on the table and you and your siblings were upstanding citizens, and as much as you’re grateful for that, sometimes you resent them for never truly making you feel seen and appreciated.
Maybe that’s the reason why when Sungchan shows you care and desire, you mistake it for love. Because, in those sacred moments in the dead of the night when he shares a part of him with you, something he never told or showed before, you want to crawl out of your skin and into his to become a part of him. That’s when you think – you feel – like you love him. And you feel like maybe he loves you, too.
The fact that he speaks in a gentle and low tone as opposed to the wails you used to listen to as a child is just an added bonus.
After fifteen minutes, you finally close the water tap and the stream of your daydream about Sungchan to step out of the shower. As you dab your body up with a towel, you find out Sungchan has left a change of his clothes for you on the sink while your mind was far away. You quickly dry yourself off and put on the clothes, a pair of his boxers and a set of gray sweatpants and sweatshirt that retains the heat from the hot water on your body and makes you feel like a human again and not a dirty wet popsicle. Then you wipe a hand on the mirror over the sink to get rid of the steam on it and start brushing your hair back with your fingers to redo your ponytail. Once you’re satisfied, you put the towel up to dry and leave the bathroom, walking the small path to Sungchan’s room. You can’t help but notice that Shotaro’s room, that is right beside Sungchan’s, has its door open and lights out, with no signs of Shotaro inside, which means you and Sungchan have the house alone to yourselves. A wicked smile makes its way to your face as you think of all the noise you can make without a care in the world. But you soon tamper your wild thoughts and breath in before knocking on Sungchan’s closed door, only opening it after you hear his permission to come inside.
His bedroom is small and you’ve been in here so many times you already know it by heart. A twin bed by the window, some basic white curtains, a nightstand, a small desk with a chair by the foot of the bed, a dresser just in front of it and that’s it. It’s a tiny room in a tiny apartment, not much different than yours, and you suppose there’s not much else a college student can afford in a building off-campus.
When you come inside, Sungchan is sitting on his chair, laptop open as he types away. And as you close the door again, he turns on his seat to welcome you with a smile on his face.
“Hey,” he says, eyeing you up and down. “Did the clothes fit okay?”
You look down at the attire that so clearly belongs to him but fits you well enough because even though he’s taller than you, you’re more full-figured than him. “Yeah. Thanks for lending me them. And for letting me shower.”
“No problem. I already turned on the dryer for your clothes, they should be done in a minute. I also wiped down your raincoat, sneakers and your bag. Shoes are still in the hall. Raincoat and backpack are right there,” he tells you, pointing at a spot behind you where your belongings are gathered, right near his dresser.
Your eyes follow his direction to recognize where your things are and then you look back to him, feeling like a deer caught in headlights as you lean back on the wall with hands bound behind your back. Even though you wanted to meet him, you feel misplaced now that you’re here. Like the time apart has made you become strangers to one another. You don’t know what to expect anymore. Sungchan has been nothing but welcoming until now, but you keep fearfully anticipating his every move and word, waiting to be rejected, sure that your presence is annoying him and he’ll ask you to leave at any minute.
Contrarily to all of your fears, Sungchan puts you out of your misery as he extends a hand and beckons you to come closer. When you step in his general direction, he takes your hand in his and draws you in so you’re standing in between his legs. With him still seated in his chair, you’re taller than him, and you like the leverage of looking down on him that it gives you. But instead of meeting his eyes with confidence, you focus your gaze on a spot behind his head as you feel his hands wrapping around your waist and you place your own on his shoulders.
It's only when Sungchan moves one hand to your face and tips your chin back that you really look at him. He’s wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that match yours and a white t-shirt that hugs his form and shows his biceps, his fringe styled in a way that leaves a heart-shaped spot on his forehead that you want to drop a kiss on. His reading glasses frame his eyes, the lenses lightly scratched. It’s completely unfair how absolutely ravishing he looks in simple clothing and so little styling.
“Hi there,” he whispers when your eyes stop wandering over his features and finally focus on his face, the smile on his lips making you feel warm all over.
“Hey,” you reply, fingers picking at the fabric of his shirt over his chest for lack of something better to do. “Thank you for everything. You’re the best.”
“Of course, princess,” he says, hand moving to the nape of your neck to pull your face closer. He pecks your lips two times before pulling back. You instantly melt against him, containing the urge to follow his mouth with yours. “I wouldn’t be okay with you standing in those wet cold clothes. Plus, you look cute wearing mine, too.”
You smile shyly at him, your cheeks burning because of the compliment and he nuzzles his nose against yours, muttering a “So damn cute,” before pressing his lips on yours again.
You sigh against him, mouth parting to immediately receive his tongue. It’s slow and sweet, you both getting acquainted with each other again, one of his hands around your waist to press you against his front, and the other one rubbing circles on your nape. Your own hands wrap around his neck and pull at the strands of his hair, earning a soft groan from him. He tastes like mint toothpaste and heaven, and you’re embarrassed by how much you missed this. His closeness, his smell, his touch, his kiss. All of it. All of him. You want him all the time.
“Finals week has been treating you badly, doll?” He asks when you both pull back for air and you groan at his question, hanging your head low and resting your forehead on his right shoulder. He chuckles at you.
“Please, I don’t want to talk about it,” you whimper, the press of his lips on your neck making your voice airy.
He nods and softly pushes your head back so he can look at you again. “Fine, let’s not talk about it. But I still have an essay due tomorrow that I’m trying to finish today, so I don’t think I’ll be able to spend much time with you right now.”
“Oh, okay,” you reply. “You want me to go?”
He shakes his head and looks at you pointedly, muzzling another one of your attempts to flee. “Please stay. I’ll order some food if you’re hungry and you can eat while I work.”
You scrunch your nose at the offer with a hand over your stomach. “I actually feel nauseous after that exam.”
He laughs at you and starts humming, making the most adorable thinking face while he tries to come up with a plan that doesn’t involve you leaving.
“I can charge my phone and watch TikTok videos on your bed while you work? If the sound doesn’t bother you. I’ll make sure the volume is really low.” You suggest. “And after, I don’t know…” You trail off, feeling warm all over again because you actually know exactly what comes after. What comes after is you getting impaled by his dick and writhing in pleasure. And you hope that what comes after is you both finally confessing your feelings for each other, too. But that’s just a hope.
And also, it’s not even the time to think about that, so you shake your head to scare those thoughts away and give him another option, “I can go back home after a while. I actually need to sleep early because I have another exam in the third period tomorrow.”
“Okay, sounds like a plan,” he replies, nodding his head and pulling you in for another long and sweet kiss.
That is interrupted by the familiar pinging sound of a message coming through his laptop iMessage app and your eyes instinctively follow it to check what it is. But Sungchan is quicker than you, scrambling up and turning his torso to reach for the mouse and close the notification before you have the chance to see it. It’s a small moment that doesn’t quite alarm you because you know Sungchan is a private person and there’s no way he’d let you look through his texts. Still, as he turns back to drop a last kiss on your lips and you walk away to search for your phone in your bag, something about it nags at the back of your head.
With your phone and charger in hand and the TikTok app open, you make yourself comfortable on his bed. As your brain forgets all about international laws and politics and gets a serotonin boost from puppies and kittens’ videos, Sungchan pulls your feet from the bed to lay them on his lap as he remains seated on his chair. When he’s clicking away on the mouse or scrolling through his screen to read something, he rests his free hand on your ankles and starts massaging the soles of your feet. The domesticity of it all tugs on your heart and you can’t help but smile as you watch his back. Soon enough, the warmth of his room, his kneading on your feet and the comfy feeling get to you and you start to feel sleepy.
So, you connect your charger plug on the outlet behind Sungchan’s bedside table and hook it up on your phone, letting the device rest on the table as you promise Sungchan you’re just going to close your eyes for a few minutes. Then, you end up falling asleep in just a few seconds.
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You feel the warmth first. A source of heat enveloping you in a strong and sturdy body. Then, you feel the gentleness, the soft touch on your hair, the slide of a thumb under your ear that pulls you from your slumber and into the arms of reality.
As you blink your eyes open, you’re met with Sungchan’s deep light brown eyes, illuminated by the lamp on his bedside table. The atmosphere is comfortable. You’re warm and cozy laying on Sungchan’s twin bed with his arms surrounding you. The rain is still falling outside, although now it has turned into a light drizzle. There’s flimsy wind coming in through the small opening of the window that cools the air and prevents everything from becoming too hot. But you like the heat and think you could be easily lured back to sleep because of it.
“Hi there,” Sungchan mutters before you have the chance to close your eyes again, his head resting on the same pillow as yours.
“Hi, Jinsu” you say groggily, rubbing a hand over your sleepy face. You notice how he smiles and his eyes glint at your use of his favorite nickname, and an emotion stirs deep inside you for seeing him so happy with something so simple. 
You get awkward for a moment thinking you must have mucus on your eyes and a bloated face right now, but Sungchan just keeps smiling at you and it’s enough to take your mind away from the embarrassment. His thumb rubs soothing circles on the nape of your neck as you adjust yourself over the sheets. “Sorry for waking you up. I was just getting comfortable to sleep,” he says. 
“S’okay.” You smile back at him, reaching over to caress his hair, your fingers threading through its strands. “For how long did I nap?”
“Two hours or so,” he says, sliding his hand down to your waist. “You snored, too.”
You give him a scoff, followed by a yawn that starts small and turns big. It makes you stretch your whole body, extending all of your limbs from your arms to your toes, cracking your knuckles and everything, and Sungchan gives you space to do so. When you’re finished, you turn on your back, getting comfortable again and closing your eyes briefly with a quiet hum.
“I should probably go, then,” you say with eyes still closed. It was about 7:30 p.m. when you settled in his bed, which means now it’s close to ten. If you want a quality sleep and to wake up on time tomorrow, you actually should get going. But Sungchan’s bed feels too comfy right now. Being in his arms is not bad either. 
You don’t see, but you can feel him scooting over to you, sheets rustling as he gets closer, his nose nuzzling yours and his hand fiddling with the bottom hem of your sweatshirt, your senses heightened by your drowsy mind and the lack of vision.
“You can stay a little while longer,” he replies with a playful tilt in his words, his fingers skimming over your belly button making you jump slightly, and you open your eyes to see the left side of his mouth popping up as he shamelessly presses his body on the side of yours. “I don’t mind.”
“Oh, you don’t?” you mumble, suddenly feeling the need to lower your voice with his lips so close to yours, eyes narrowing at his obvious naughty intentions. “That’s so nice of you.”
“Uh-huh, that’s me,” he finally leans in to give you a peck on the lips. “I’m sooo nice,” it’s the last thing he says before kissing you fully.
This kiss is heavy and intimate. His hand around your neck keeps you in place as he savors you, tongue entering your mouth. He strokes the back of your teeth, the roof of your mouth, the inside of your cheeks and your own tongue, groaning at whatever he finds there. His other hand grazes the skin of your waist tenderly in a way that may have made you think he’d treat you delicately if he wasn’t kissing you with so much fervor and energy. He takes whatever he wants from you until you pull away, already out of breath.
“I thought you were going to sleep,” you tease, lips ghosting over his, and he smirks at you.
He moves his lips to your ear and whispers, “Yeah, but I’m all woken up now,” as his hand moves up and down your stomach, faintly caressing your skin in a way that makes your insides burn. He presses his pelvis on the side of your thigh and you feel his dick hardening while still being constrained inside his pants. “Can’t you feel it?”
You reply a faint yeah before he’s all over you again, mouth desperate on yours as he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth and bites, hands gripping your waist and body crowding you against the sheets. He’s consuming you whole and he wants more. And you give it to him. All of you. Honestly, at this point you’d give him whatever he asked.
“You don’t have exams tomorrow?” You ask in between kisses, breathless and shaky, the still sane part of your mind trying to estimate how much time you have together and what you’d be able to do with it.
Sungchan shakes his head slightly and kisses the corner of your mouth, putting a strand of your hair that’s fallen free from your ponytail behind your ear. “I’m finished with exams,” he whispers and kisses your cheek, then moves his lips to your earlobe, kissing there, too. “I have all the time in the world for you right now, princess.”
You want to kiss him again, but his head moves up, his nose sinking into your hair and deeply inhaling before pressing his lips on your hairline. “I missed the smell of your shampoo so much,” he says, eyes focusing back on your face as he slides his lips to your temple.
You sigh against him, his words making your heart flutter. Still, you can’t help but tease him when his eyes meet yours again. “Well, if you contacted me earlier, you wouldn’t have missed it,” you say, pouting at him, your hand bawling at his shirt as you finally show how upset the two weeks of radio silence made you feel.
Sungchan laughs at you and cradles his hand on the side of your face, his thumb caressing over your cheekbone as he holds you close. “Oh, did you get mad I didn’t text you, princess?” He mutters, his eyes glinting while yours are sad. “You should’ve texted me, then.”
You keep pouting, making a dissatisfied noise with his reply. Then, you cast your eyes down to the collar of his shirt as you say, “I wanted you to talk to me first.”
Sungchan chuckles and closes his palm on your chin, tilting your head up so you have nowhere to look but into his eyes. “But you ended up calling me up either way, didn’t you?” He teases in a low gruff voice with dark eyes. His fingers press against the sides of your cheeks to pucker your lips for him and he drops four consecutives pecks on your mouth that have you sighing. “Sounded so cute on the phone, too, saying you needed to see me,” he finishes.
The mockery of his words falls hard on you, making you feel ashamed as he reminisces your exact words, directly pointing out the truth: that you were the one who pursued him and not the other way around. You whimper in discontent, your face contorting as you try to get away from his grip, but his hold on your chin tightens when you move. So you press your nails on his shoulders over his shirt, hoping the fabric gives away and your force is enough to draw blood, and look at him with hard eyes and anger on your face. “Sungchan, I don’t like-”
“Why don’t you just tell me you missed me, huh?” He asks, interrupting you and making you roll your eyes at him, a snappy reply on your tongue. “Because I missed you, princess. I really did.”
And just like that the anger fizzles out and the irritable words are gone from your brain. His confession makes you melt back against him, breath hitching and eyes going wide. You notice he’s still smirking, probably because he knows he got you right where he wanted. Teasing you nonstop for half a minute and then confessing he missed you just so he can get a reaction out of you. And you give it to him, falling on the trap just like he wanted. You always do.
“Did you really?” You ask, big eyes focusing on his lips and neck pushing forward, needing to hear his confirmation. If you were a pet, your ears would be up and alert, patiently waiting for your owner to assert his authority over you.
“I did,” he says, nodding his head and smoothing his hands over your features now, his tongue poking out to wet his lips. “And did you miss me, princess?”
You nod before he’s even finished speaking. Knowing he missed you just how much you missed him fills you with urgency and you’re sure you have eager and wanton eyes as you grip on the back of his head and pull his face closer, focusing your gaze back on his as you sheepishly confess back, “I missed you, Jinsu.”
Sungchan’s smile slowly spreads across his lips as he hears and sees your words coming out of your lips. He pats on the top of your head briefly, like you really are his pet, and coos at you. “There you go, pretty girl.”
And then he’s pulling you in for a kiss again, his mouth devouring you whole as he creeps one hand under your head to support it and slides his other one to grasp at your hip.
He shifts on the bed, leaning over you with a leg in between yours, his grip tightening as your tongues meet. In no time you’re both breathing heavily, lips red, swollen and covered in spit as your hands weave through his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. He moves his lips down to your neck, sucking and biting everywhere, and drives his hands up your stomach under your shirt, feeling the skin just under your boobs before his fingers enclose over one of them.
You sigh and crane your neck to the side as he keeps peppering kisses on your collar, his thumb now pressing against your nipple as it hardens over his ministrations, another moan flying free from your mouth. You try to match his pace, descending one hand to his stomach to pull up his t-shirt, your fingers grazing his abs.
He pulls away then, kneeling on the bed to remove his shirt and throw it on some corner of his room. You spend approximately two seconds kissing his lower stomach before he’s pulling your sweatshirt – his sweatshirt – over your head, too, and pouncing on you a minute later, his other knee also coming in between your legs as he latches his mouth around one boob, laying you back down.
“Fuck, Sungchan,” you groan, your hands clamping on his hair again because he’s sucking on your nipple at just the perfect angle whilst his thigh presses on your crotch with just the ideal amount of friction to make you dizzy. You’re sure you're wet already and it’s not even been over ten minutes since you woke up.
“Missed these tits so much too, princess,” he says over your damp nipple, eyes focusing on yours and raising goosebumps all over you. It’s an incredibly lewd image. His glossy and pretty lips, coated on your saliva, telling you over your areola how much he missed your boobs. Yeah, you’ll probably be thinking about it for a long time, keeping this memory to your mind to use it specifically when you masturbate in the near future. Or you’ll be putting a video representation of it as the cause of your death on your grave when you’re buried. One of these two options, for sure.
He presses kisses all over the valley of your chest before sucking around the skin of your other boob. His tongue peeks out of his mouth to kitten lick at your nipple at the same time his blunt nails graze against the skin just under your belly button on your right side, and you fidget under him. It’s a weak spot he had memorized as soon as you started sleeping together and he tortures you with it every damn time you two fuck just to see you squirm.
“Desperate already?” He says as he rubs the same place over and over, his eyes watching your stomach contract with each caress.
“You’re such a douchebag,” you tell him.
“Why?” he kisses your nipple and focuses his eyes back on yours, stupid smirk still plastered on his face. “Am I not making you feel good?”
“You fucking know why,” you respond, moving your hand to his wrist to stop his abuse of your weak spot and sliding his hand down to cup the place in between your thighs over your clothes. “And this is where your hand has to be to make me feel good.”
Sungchan laughs at that, pressing his hand harder on you and sucking on your boob one more time. His eyes and lips are glistening as he says, “So bossy. You’re lucky I like it.”
And then his mouth is claiming yours again while he sits up and his hands make quick work of yanking down your sweatpants and underwear – once again, his clothes – and throwing them away from you, making you lay back and bend your legs. Once he’s done, you move down the bed, sitting to grasp your fingers over the drawstring of his sweatpants, trying to loosen it so he can get just as naked as you are, but he moves his hips out of your reach just before you can finish it.
“I want to feel you, too,” you whine as he hovers over you, one hand pushing on your shoulder to reposition you the way he wants it, your back stretching against the covers again.
He smiles and drops a small peck on the corner of your mouth before moving his body down the bed, hands spreading open your thighs and lips pressing kisses on your belly and going down, down, down.
“In a minute, doll,” he says over your right knee, his hands now moving to the inside of your thighs, so close to where you most want him. “Have to make you feel good first, just like you asked.”
His mouth moves up now, lips sucking and bruising your thighs, tongue lavishing over your soft skin, one hand crossed on your waist to hold your body down and another pinching the supple flesh of your butt and thigh, pushing and pulling as he pleases and extending your torture so much more. You love it just as much as you hate it. It’s amazing how much he knows your body, how much he remembers all of your ticks just to use them against you. Or maybe it’s just the fact that it’s him. He makes you feel this way. Always has. Probably always will.
You are about to beg for something more, the first letter of a please making its way out of your now dry lips. And then he’s parting your folds and kissing up your crotch, becoming face to face with your glistening cunt. He buries his nose just on the outer part of it and breathes in deeply for a moment, quite literally inhaling your scent, and you think he just has to be mad. There’s no way in hell he’s a sane person.
“Fuck yeah,” he groans, his eyes meeting your wide ones when you press your elbows on the bedspread to support your upper body and watch what he’s doing. “Missed this sweet little pussy, too.” He slides his forefinger up your slit and rubs at your clit, making you shiver. “And she missed me, right, doll? Fucking dripping already. And all for me.”
“Holy shit, you’re crazy,” you moan, brushing his hair back as he keeps rubbing your clit, your hips wiggling with every complete circle he finishes, eyes never leaving his.
“And you love it,” he states and you can’t argue with that. And then he’s licking a wide strip up your pussy, his middle finger reaching down to find your entrance at the same time.
It would be ridiculous to get close to cumming just from that alone, but it’s been so long and you’ve been so pent up you already feel the characteristic churning deep in your stomach. Still, like always, Sungchan takes his time with you, massaging your entrance with his fingers, tongue finding that spot just under your clit that makes you see stars.
The seven months you’ve been doing this have been so full of sexual experiments that now he knows you prefer indirect stimulation rather than the direct on-the-nose approach. He knows you like to be eased into it, to slowly lose yourself to pleasure over getting quickly to your orgasm.
So, he keeps rubbing over your hole before putting his finger in, stroking your walls lazily as you moan softly, his tongue licking over the same spot over and over, oftentimes catching just the underside of your clit and making you swivel your hips trying to follow his lips.
“That’s it, doll. Doing so good for me,” he says as he speeds up his movements, joining another finger inside of your pussy and focusing on the image of your eyes closed, chest heaving and lips bitten. “Feels good?”
“Feels so good, Jinsu,” you reply, opening your glassy eyes to meet his, grabbing at his forearm that’s crossed over the front of your body. Sungchan is so focused on bringing you pleasure that the veins on his arms are popped up, so pretty you wish to run your tongue over each one. All of it just adds to the raw sexual tension lingering in the air.
“I love it when you call me that. You know just the way to drive me crazy, princess,” he groans, eyes never leaving yours as he moves his mouth to your clit again, now sucking harshly on it as his two fingers scissor you open.
Another thing you love about Sungchan is his dirty talk. You still don’t understand how he stays so silent and bashful most of the time and turns into another person in bed, becoming bold and forward. It’s not uncommon for him to be completely calm and collected when you’re in a friendly gather and then say the most obscene things while fucking you half an hour later, the shy persona thrown out the window. Sometimes he starts teasing you with texts, dirty looks or small touches even while you are out with friends. And the knowledge that he gets to be a completely different person just for you got you off one too many times.
You move your free hand to the back of his neck and push him more into your cunt. He gets the message and pulls your legs further apart, one hand going under your bum to support your lower half as you start bucking your hips into his face, sliding your elbows under you to arch your back while you’re searching for pleasure. He’s fucking you with his tongue so good right now you feel your sanity slipping away. The breeze coming from the window gives you goosebumps because of the contrast with the heat of your body, and your nipples stand hard as you whimper, hand pulling on the strands on Sungchan’s nape.
He groans against you, the vibration going straight to your heat and enveloping your whole body. When he pulls aways slightly, he keeps rubbing at your clit with his fingers.
“Gonna cum for me, princess?” He asks while resting his chin on your thigh and you moan, nodding desperately as you lift your head to look up into his glazed eyes. Words would fail you right now, so you do your best to convey your feelings through your actions, the hand on his forearm gripping him so hard he gives you his hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Do it, baby. You look so pretty when you cum.”
Over Sungchan’s eyes, you catch the way he’s rutting his hips on the bed, obviously looking for some kind of friction. The image shows that he’s just as turned on as you while eating you out and it makes you crazier. His shoulder blades and his back are tensed and you rest one foot over his shoulder just to feel the muscles moving under it, so fucking attractive. And when you focus back to his face, he’s panting, gaze never leaving yours as he dips his head again to suck hard on your clit, and that’s when you cum.
Your orgasm takes over your whole body and you shudder as Sungchan doesn’t stop, three of his fingers finding your hole again and pistoning inside you whilst you fall apart, his left cheek resting against your thigh and his eyes never leaving your pussy. You convulse around his hand and under his body, body going haywire while the intense pleasure overwhelms your senses.
You don’t know what to do with yourself. If you should keep your hands pressing against his nape and your hips lifting off in the air or if you should stop and take a breather. It all feels too fucking good it almost smothers you, but you don’t feel like stopping. Sungchan makes the decision for you then, choosing to keep his tongue out to taste you and his fingers curling on the spongy spot inside you that makes you writhe.
But suddenly it’s too much and you sit up to try to push him away with a hand on his forehead and clasp your other one over his wrist that is bended as he still guides his digits furiously inside you. Your legs try to close over his head, but he presses a hand firmly on the inside of your left thigh to keep them apart, his eyes determined as he meets yours again and pulls away slightly from your clit.
“Wait, I’m–“ You try to speak, but the word sensitive doesn’t come out as you feel your thighs trembling.
“I know, doll, I know,” he coos at you with pouty lips, still overstimulating you and enjoying every second of it, his eyes relaying fake empathy. “But you can give me one more, right?” You shake your head no with pleading eyes. Sungchan doesn’t budge. “Yes, you can. I believe in you. Gonna feel so good, too.”
You realize there’s no escaping this. You could use your safe word, but you don’t want to. Not when Sungchan is assertive and so good to you that it makes you feel obedient, keen to do everything in your power to make him feel good as well. So you bite your lip and nod your head at the same time you feel something change deep inside you. Your thighs that were trembling now spread open again and your pelvis starts chasing the feeling of his hand instead of avoiding it. Sungchan makes note of every new reaction, a sly smile appearing on his lips, and his eyes zero in on your cunt again. You relax your back enough to have your elbows hitting the sheets again, head falling back. Your hands weaken their grip on Sungchan’s wrist and head as he doubles down his efforts, fingers unwavering working to bring you to the edge. Soon enough, you feel the tightness in your belly, how it’s so steadfast you can’t help but let yourself fall into it. 
When you sob his name and curl your toes on his back, he looks at you with fierce eyes and one command on his moist lips.
“Cum,” he whispers, soft and yet harsh.
Just like that, the band snaps again and your walls spasm, gushing over Sungchan’s fingers. You arch your back off the bed, hips shooting up to feel everything he has left to give you, your mouth hanging open in a silent moan.
Like before, Sungchan keeps going, working you through it again and the lewd slippery sounds your cunt makes on his hand have you whimpering, nails scratching his wrist and eyes screwing shut to feel it all until it becomes too much again.
This time, when you weakly push at his forehead, Sungchan pulls back. His forearms support his body up as he hovers over you, lips trailing up your whole body as he kisses and sucks every part of you he can reach. “Such a good damn pussy,” he whispers just over the apex between your thighs. “And such a fucking pretty princess,” he says above your belly button. “Made you cum so good, right?” He questions after he sucks one of your nipples on his mouth again, and you paw at his head. “I could do this all night, doll,” he states before licking your other nipple. “And you’d let me, right?” He says before biting a mark on your clavicle.
When his lips come in contact with your own, you pant inside his mouth, trying to match his kisses even though you’re still gasping for air and with your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You just loop your arms around his neck and let him kiss you, tasting yourself on his tongue and feeling the heat creeping on your cheeks because of the vulgarity of it all.
He bites your bottom lip when you don’t give him an immediate answer and withdraws with it still between his teeth, digging harshly on your plush and hypersensitive skin until you hiss in pain. Only then he releases it. “Right?” He demands.
Your mind is still hazy and you’re still out of breath post two mind blowing orgasms, but you know better than to deny Sungchan when he’s feeling dominating. “Right,” you mutter in your most docile tone.
He smiles and swipes your cheek with his knuckles, thumb stroking on your abused lip before he presses another kiss on it. “Good girl.”
The praise goes straight to your system and you buzz in excitement, like you’re reawakening because of his words. Suddenly, you feel the urge to show him just how good of a girl you can be, how you can make him feel so good he might even forget his name.
You kiss him again and slip your hands down his body to feel his pecs, then his abs, until finally your fingers wrap around the imprint of his dick on his sweatpants. Sungchan hisses, head resting on the crook of your neck and shoulder, hips thrusting down on your hand.
“I need to suck you off,” you say, pushing him with a hand on his chest to make him sit up as you keep working his erection through his pants with your other hand.
Sungchan follows your directions, pulling your upper half up with him but keeping his arms tight around you, constricting you from moving any further. “If you do that right now, I’m gonna cum,” his whispers with eyes boring into yours, a silent plea in them.
You drop a peck on his lips and look at him with the same intensity as you reply. “Great. Then cum in my mouth.”
Just like that he weakens his hold of you and you’re able to slip from his arms to kneel on the floor, pulling on his waist for him to be in the position you want. Sungchan becomes compliant to your whims, just following your moves. Even though you never assigned each other fixed roles in bed, you are usually the one being pliable and manhandled, so it is a nice change to get him to obey your orders. He drops his legs over the side of the bed where you’re located and gives you enough space to shimmy your body in between them. This time he lets you pull at the string of his sweatpants to slacken it and lifts his hips when you pull down on the waistband of it, your hands removing his briefs, too. Both pieces of fabric pool around his ankles as you hold your head up and pull his face down for another kiss. He lets you kiss him while he gets rid of the clothes surrounding his calves, becoming hyper aware of your hands roaming over his body as his dick remains untouched.
Only when you pull back you get a good look at his cock, red, angry and leaking with precum. You lick your lips and keep rubbing your hands at Sungchan’s skin, and his eyes follow the way your right hand tweaks his nipples and your lips close around the space over his left knee.
“Please don’t tease right now, doll,” he says, voice whiny and eyes urgent as your hands start going down his stomach, your nails slightly scratching his skin. 
“Oh yeah? But I thought you liked teasing,” you say with a smirk before kissing his thigh. He opens his legs some more, opening up more space, and shuffles his pelvis closer to the side of the bed, leaning back on one arm. “Or are you that desperate already?”
He sneers at you repeating his earlier words back to him, but when you finally wrap your hand around the base of his dick, the smile is gone and he opens his mouth in a silent groan, brows furrowing together. Sungchan is so thick and heavy in your hand the tips of your fingers don’t touch your thumb as you grip him. Although his size never fails to impress you, you’re used to it by now, and you’re particularly fond of how much pleasure it brings you.
You just find it unfair how even his dick is pretty. Long and thick, mushroom tip with the same pink tinge of his lips and nipples, standing up with a slight curve that always digs so good on that spongy place inside of you. You move your hand up and down his shaft to smear his slick all over him. Your mouth waters at the sight and soon enough you’re pressing a kiss to his tip and watching him purr, thrusting his hips up to follow the feel of your lips when you move back.
“Stay still,” you command and he purses his lips together and nods. His forehead is already beaded with sweat and you love the image of it. You smile softly at him before you kitten-lick his tip, watching his mouth open to deliver quiets aahs and oohs while you tongue at his slit and the underside of his head.
After a while, you finally take him inside your mouth. His tip prods on your cheek as you suck his dick forcefully and that’s enough to make Sungchan groan, head lolling back. You back away again and he whines, lifting his face to look in your eyes again.
“I know, baby boy. So sensitive, right?” You blow air over his head and he fidgets, wiggling his hips slightly. God, he looks gorgeous surrendering himself for you like this. You’ll have to do this more in the near future.
You smile and run your tongue all around his head, teasing him one last time before enveloping your lips around him again, tongue stroking the underside of his cock. Sungchan grips a hand on your hair, threading the strands of your now lopsided and messy ponytail in between his fingers. You hollow out your cheeks and bob your head up and down for him, hand stroking the rest of his dick where you’re not able to cover with your mouth. He moans at you and you put another hand on his thigh for balance, breathing in deep through your nose and preparing to take him deeper. A second later you’re relaxing your throat as his dick invades that space, too, concentrating on keeping your breath regulated while he thrusts his hips up.
“Just like that, princess,” he whimpers under you.
You hold out for the longest you can before you feel your gag reflex kicking in and then you retreat with a gasp, a string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his dick, your eyes blurry from unshed tears as you make up for the loss of your mouth with your hand. Sungchan moves both of his hands to your cheeks, holding you tenderly as his thumbs press on your waterline to catch the tears clouding your vision.
When you blink, his face becomes clear to you again. His eyes are glassy and lust filled, his open mouth is panting and his chest, cheeks and neck are splotched. It fills you with pride that he’s gotten into such a fucked-up state just because of you.
“Feels good?” You ask in between deep breaths, trying to fill your lungs with air before preparing to take him in your mouth again whilst you keep pumping his cock.
“Yes. You’ve gotten so good at this, doll. Doing your best job yet,” he says and the pride swells in your chest, an instant ego boost cursing through your system.
Before you met Sungchan, you didn’t care enough about receiving or giving oral. You had a couple of boyfriends before, but you were still inexperienced and slightly disgusted of doing and experimenting certain things. And even though they had given you head before, and you’d tried your best to reciprocate, it was always a means to an end, never the primary goal of your sexual encounters.
But Sungchan was different. The first time he ate you out, he didn’t stop until you finished three times in sequence. It was so good it made you want to do the same for him. He made you feel seductive and bold enough to try new things. And he had the patience to teach you just the way he liked it. He didn’t become frustrated when your rhythm was shitty and you had to take long breaks to breathe before going back at it again. He didn’t push your head to take him all the way when you weren’t prepared. He waited for your affirmative response, leading and encouraging you, praising you whenever you achieved a new skill or did something different. He was good to you. And in turn, you became good for him.
“I like to pleasure you,” you say sincerely and trace your tongue on the vein that runs under his cock.
Sungchan jitters on the bed. “Yeah, and you trained so hard for that, right? Always sucking on my cock like you want to milk me dry, too.”
You nod, suckling and peppering small kisses all over his tip. “I do want to suck you dry.”
He smirks at that and moves his hand to the back of your neck again, tightening his grip. “Then why don’t you put it in your mouth again, baby?”
You smirk back at him and take your last big whiff of air before opening your lips to take him inside again. You hollow out your cheeks and bob your head up and down immediately, gripping at the base of his dick a hand and letting his moans, sighs and hums of approval guide your ministrations. You suction on the parts of his cock your mouth can reach and flatten your tongue on the underside of it, playing with his most sensitive parts while Sungchan keeps praising you.
“Shit. So good to me, doll. Keep doing that,” he grunts and you nod.
When his nails dig on your nape and his tip hits the back of your throat, you breathe through your nose and let him jerk his hips up until your forehead meets his stomach and your nose rubs on his pubic hair. You press both of your hands on his thighs and allow him to use your mouth until you can’t breathe and think straight anymore.
When you back out heaving, Sungchan moves his fingers to your face to catch the droll falling from your lips and clean the tears striking your cheeks. He waits for you to gather your surroundings again, still complimenting you and your work.
“Damn, you’re such a good girl,” he says tenderly, thumbs running over the apple of your cheeks. “Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”
The praise, of course, gets to you again. So, you tighten your grip on the root of his cock, starting to pump him faster, and take your other hand away from his thigh, pressing your fingers together and shaping your palm in a conch-like way to rub it on the tip of his dick, your thumb going under the head to rub at the sensitive spot located there. Sungchan moans loudly at that and you lean over to lick on his balls at the best of your ability giving the position you’re both in, not giving up even if the carpeted floor is digging on your skin.
Sungchan scrunches his eyes closed and slides one of his hands to the back of your neck and moves the other to grasp over yours on the head of his cock, pulling it away to rest them together at his thigh. “I’m close, princess.”
You catch his warning and wrap your lips on his cock again, instantly taking him in your throat as he desperately yanks his hips up in your mouth, fingers pressing on your nape and moans growing heavy and breathless. Your free hand fiddles with his balls, your nose presses on his lower stomach again and you swear you can feel him in your windpipe. And that’s when he releases, painting the inside of your mouth white with thick ropes of cum that only seize after a minute. When his body becomes loose and his hand on your neck turns weak, you pull away with a pop, watching his dick twitch and slap against his stomach.
You breathe deep and press your hands on the mattress on both of his sides to get up slowly, back and knees complaining about being in the same position for long minutes. Despite looking limp and still dazed, Sungchan pulls you to him so quickly you almost lose your balance. He peppers kisses on your belly and boobs while your hands press on his shoulders. And when you groan and move a hand to rub your left knee, he pulls your leg up to place your foot on the bed and hunches to close his lips on your skin, his tongue lavishing against the redness there. It tickles and you chuckle at him, but that doesn’t stop him from giving your right leg the same attention. He places your left foot on the ground and bends your right leg to press your toes on the mattress, repeating the same process. You smile fondly at him and caress his hair while he drops kisses on your right knee. And when he’s done, he slides your leg down so you’re now pressing your knee on the bed on the side of his thigh.
“You’re so good to me,” he whispers as he pulls you in for another kiss.
You press your body closer to his and feel the way his dick is hardening again, rubbing on your thigh, precum wetting it. But as you shuffle to straddle him completely, Sungchan stops you with a hand on your waist.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, voice hoarse from the blowjob. Sungchan doesn’t reply, scooting closer to his nightstand to open his drawer instead.
He pulls a foil packet from the already opened box of condoms and you look at him with confusion written all over your face. You guys have been doing it raw for three months now, ever since you told each other you were clean and not seeing anybody else and you started taking the pill. Sungchan loves finishing inside of you. So of course, you’re a little bit puzzled about why he’s choosing to wear a condom now, all of the sudden.
Well, maybe he’s afraid you met someone else during your time apart, but this possibility doesn’t even make sense. So you try to quash away his worries.
“I haven’t seen anyone else, Sungchan,” you tell him as he opens the foil packet and discards the trash on his night stand, right beside your cell phone.
“I know, doll,” he says back, eyes fleeting on yours for a moment before they focus on wrapping the condom around his dick. His voice sounds confident when he says it and it irks you how he’s so certain you won’t sleep with anyone else. “It’s just quicker to clean up this way.”
You tilt your head to the side and cross your arms. It doesn’t make sense. You can always shower after. That happened all the time. And it frequently led to you having round two in the bathroom, which you are not opposed to at all.
When Sungchan finishes securing the condom on his dick, he grabs your hand to drop a kiss on the back of it and pulls you closer. You budge just slightly and his eyes catch the way your stance is guarded and you’re not opening yourself up for him yet. He smiles, eyes crinkling with the motion. “Come on, princess. We have to be quick, right? Don’t you have to sleep early for that final on your third period tomorrow?”
His words are lovingly convincing and he’s technically right. But you still eye him suspiciously. Your finals are the last thing on your mind right now and you don’t believe Sungchan is worried about your sleep cycle after you just spent almost an hour pleasuring each other. It just doesn’t make sense, your mind screams at you.
You’re sure something is wrong, but when Sungchan starts kissing your clavicle and grabbing at the back of your thighs to pull you against his front, you fold, letting his lips and hands distract you from it. Then you straddle him, eager to have him inside you to pull away from the siren alarm ringing loud inside your head. He’s rock hard again and you take his cock in your hand, slapping it against your pussy lips to share your juices and the condom’s lubricant with each other. Sungchan rests his forehead against yours as you look down together at the scene.
When you move up enough for the head of his cock to catch on your hole, you both sigh, but it slips and hits your clit, so you scoot forward to get better leverage to put him inside you. Sungchan supports you with gripping hands on your back while you move your hips back up and finally his cock prods on your entrance. You’re both sighing together again when he enters you, and when Sungchan meets resistance half his way inside, he pulls you up slightly and rubs your hips, muttering about how good you’re taking him until you release more wetness, your walls fluttering and stretching to accommodate all of him.
Soon enough his thick cock is deep inside you and Sungchan bottoms out with a huff, watching as your pussy envelopes him whole. His mouth is slightly open and his two front teeth show behind his upper lip just like a bunny’s, sweat glistening on his forehead, that heart-shaped spot his hairline makes taunting you again. Your heart swells at the sight of it all, and you hate how cute he is whilst his cock is splitting you open. You place a kiss on the spot on his forehead just like you wanted before and then drop another one on the mole on the corner of his upper lip. Sungchan pulls your lips to his as you experimentally move up and down on him.
“You feel so good, princess,” he moans, breaking the kiss.
“Big,” you whimper out, scratching at his shoulders. “Feels so full, Jinsu.”
He chuckles and kisses on your temple. “I know, princess. But you like it, right?”
“Yeah,” you sigh, grabbing at his chest and gazing at his eyes again. “I like it so much.”
And you do. You like it so much that you start riding him with full energy, needing to show him how much you like him inside you, how much you like him. You try to convey with your body the words you haven’t been able to reveal, trying to show him and yourself how much this is right because of how good it feels. Because maybe if you bounce on his dick just right, suck on his pulse point the way he likes it and give him high pitched moans that compliment his performance he’ll start to like you back.
“You’re so perfect,” he says over your ear, his fringe tickling your cheek. “So fucking perfect.”
You want to scream at him that he’s right, that you are perfect, perfect for him. But instead, you purse your lips together and focus on rolling your hips against his until your thighs burn. Sungchan’s hands are splayed on your butt cheeks and he aids you, helping you by moving you up and down in a steady rhythm. He looks at your face as you scrunch up your nose and close your eyes to focus on keep riding him. You try to pick up your movements, needing a faster place to bounce back on him in a way that doesn’t tire you out as much. But Sungchan keeps slowing you down, distracting you by kissing on your pulse point, fondling your boobs, sucking on your nipples or pulling your face to kiss you. While he showers you with affection with his lips, his hand presses deeply and firmly on your back so you ride him languidly, almost stopping at times when the movements pull hoarse moans out of you both.
After a while, you start slacking because you’re actually becoming tired, trembling and losing your flow completely. Sungchan increases his efforts, trying to move you on him with only his hands, but you already surpassed the time you are usually able to ride him and your body is spent. You press your lips on his clavicle and slump against him, giving up completely.
You feel Sungchan lips on the nape of your neck and then his light chuckle. “Want me to take over?” He asks in a gentle tone.
“Yes please,” you breathe against his sternum.
He rubs the expanse of your legs and kisses your shoulder before pressing his hands on the back of your thighs and getting up with you on his lap. You think he’s going to lay you back on his sheets, but are surprised when he carries you over to his dresser, his hand knocking over and away some bottles of perfume and deodorant as he drops you on top of it. You jolt from how cold the wood feels on your heated skin and his cock slips out of you, making you both laugh a beat later.
“Why not the bed?” You ask breathless and still chuckling, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his middle as you shuffle to the edge of the dresser, watching Sungchan’s eyes turn into half-moons as he laughs with you.
“Just wanted to have you here, too,” he whispers, draping his arms tight around you and kissing you again.
He’s so playful and happy today, kissing you so much and complimenting you, slowing down and taking his time with you, his touches so careful and gentle you can’t help but start hoping. You hope that this, whatever this new side of him he’s showing you today, means something more. The feeling chews brutally on your heart, making you aware that you probably won’t come out of it alive.
Sungchan hooks one arm under your leg and pulls you to his body until half of your butt is hanging on the edge of the dresser, then grabs at his dick to guide it back to your hole, groaning when he’s fully inside of you again. You think he’s going to thrust his hips hard and fast, but he surprises you one more time by pulling back slowly, almost all the way out, before driving himself inside of you again just as gently. You sigh at the fullness and he does it again, his eyes fixated on where you two meet. This way you can feel every ridge and vein of his cock hitting all the right stops inside you, your toes curling and a moan boiling on your throat from how good it all feels. When he glides back one more time, you lift his head to look into his eyes, and he keeps your gaze as he leisurely fills you up one more time.
 “I love feeling every part of you like this,” he says when he’s bottomed out again, and you think you might die from heartache if he keeps treating you this way.
However, you don’t have the time – and you seriously don’t want to – dwell on it because in the next moment he’s thrusting inside you more forcefully and faster, making you pant and moan profusely again. You let your eyes roam over his form whilst he fucks you deep and hard. He’s so attractive it makes you a little crazy. Sturdy and toned body, a defined chest, six-pack glistening with sweat, biceps flexing as he keeps you in place, veins on his forearms bulging up, a muscular back and firm hips and long strong legs supporting all of it. So tall and strong. His face is ridiculously good-looking, too. Thick brows, wide eyes, a structured nose and pink full lips, his cupid’s bow so well designed you think it was handcrafted by God himself. You don’t know whether to thank him or Sungchan’s parents for putting him in the world. He’s perfect. And great at fucking. You kind of hate him.
Sungchan catches your wandering eyes over him and grins at you. “Like what you see?” He whispers, chest pressing on yours as he slows down his pace.
You roll your eyes. You also hate him for being so smug. “You’re handsome. What should I do? Look away?”
He chuckles and kisses your cheek. “No. You can look all you want, doll. Memorize it even.”
You pinch his shoulders and graze your teeth on his cheek for that and he shakes with laughter. “Such a cocky boy,” you whisper.
He holds your face in both of his hands as his hips keep meeting yours, going back to the slow measured thrusts inside you. “You’re so beautiful, too,” he mutters and kisses you again, halting all of his movements as his tongue darts inside your lips, tasting every crevice of your mouth. But you’re burning inside and you don’t care for slow and sweet anymore. You want him to ruin you, so you buck your hips forward for him to fill you up all over again.
He exhales and bites on your lower lip as you try working him inside of you the same way he was doing, but you fail. Your rhythm is shit and you’re still exhausted from riding him earlier, so you whine and grip his shoulders. “Sungchan, take me back to the bed so you can fuck me right,” you mumble, wiggling your body and trying to hop down the dresser as he keeps pressed against you, peppering kisses over your neck. “Please, Jinsu.”
He draws back from your neck, then, and quickly hooks his arms over your legs, hands splaying on your butt, to carry you back to the bed, remaining connected with you. You like how he makes you feel so small, as if you weigh nothing even though you have fat on your belly and plump thighs and arms. He never comments on it, too, and you’re so grateful for him never making you feel anything but desirable as your back meets his sheets and he hovers over you again. He's big in more ways than one.
You arch your back so his cock keeps filling you up, searching for that place inside you he always hits so good. But Sungchan has other plans, and his hands come to your wrists to stop your movements, holding your hands over your head as he presses all of his body on yours, your boobs squishing against him. His eyes bore into yours as he leisurely presses his cock inside you again and you bear your nails down on his knuckles. You desperately want to feel him with your hands. And you badly want him to stop looking at you with that intense gaze that makes you think – makes you feel – he cares about you the same way you care about him.
When he kisses you again, you can’t take it anymore, huffing at being constrained by your hands and urging him to look at you. “Can you flip me over?” You ask and Sungchan’s eyes shine bright at your sentence. He can never resist having you in doggy and you smile mischievously when you’re already laying on your stomach a second later, Sungchan manhandling you the way he wants.
“Hands and knees, baby,” he instructs and you fumble to obey his command, pushing yourself up and back on your knees and positioning your hands on the bed at the length of your shoulders to support your body.
Sungchan instantly corrects your form, one hand sneaking in between your thighs to spread them further apart and another pressing on your back for you to lean your upper body down, making you arch. You sigh from feeling his warm touch over your skin, wiggling your ass in the air for him. He chuckles at you and gives a soft slap at your right butt cheek and you laugh with him.
“You look so pretty in this position,” he says, now placing himself behind you and shimmying his knees in between your legs. “You know I love to fuck you like this, right?”
“Yes,” you whisper, anticipation building high as you feel him prepare to enter you again. “And I love when you fuck me like this.”
Sungchan hums at you, and you finally feel the warmth of his skin on yours as he slaps his dick over the curve of your ass, making you purr. “And I love this ass, too,” he mutters, resting his cock on your body as his hands grab at your ass. Then he gives it another hit, this time harder than the first one, his palm softly massaging the spot after. You stumble on the bed slightly from the shock, smothering a moan. “Love how it looks when I fuck you.”
You know by now that he’s enjoying his time teasing and playing with you, but you’re so desperate to feel him inside of you again that you don’t mind begging for it. “Jinsu, please. Can you please put it back in?”
He snickers at you and finally finishes rearranging himself, his knuckles brushing against the back of your thighs as he begins tugging on his dick again and guiding it inside you, the head of it pressing on your entrance. “Okay, doll, but just because I want it just as bad as you.”
He slides hard and fully inside you in one go, driving you forward on the mattress. You sigh contently, feeling full and complete. In this new angle, he feels even deeper. Sungchan groans as he feels your cunt spasming around him, one hand gripping your right hip and the other kneading your ass. He pulls back halfway and pushes in again, harder than before, and your eyes roll to the back of your head from how good it already feels.
“You good, princess?” He asks, stilling inside of you.
“Yeah. Feels so deep,” you whisper, leaning the side of your face on the sheets above you to try to look back to him. You only get a glimpse of his left ear and cheek and how his biceps look holding you down, the rest of your view being obstructed by your own body.
“Hmm, I know,” he muses, languidly moving in and out of you, now both of his hands landing on your ass cheeks to spread them apart. You’re pretty sure he’s indulging himself in feeling the plush of your skin spilling between his fingers and watching how your pussy swallows him whole from that angle. He’s addicted to the image and feel of you like this. “I always hit it so deep like this.”
“Uh-huh. And you can hit it harder and faster, too, right?” You tease, pushing yourself back on his cock to make him fuck you swiftly.
He laughs and moves one hand to your hip again, leaning further into you and pressing his hips against yours. “Sorry. Got distracted by your ass again”, he confesses and it’s your time to snicker at him. But soon he begins to drive his cock harder and faster inside you, just like you asked, and your laugh is replaced by moans. “Better now?”
“Fuck yes,” you groan, feeling his dick hit all the right places inside of you. “Please don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” he assures you, his hips kissing yours again and again, the sound of your skins smacking together echoing through the room.
He’s been driving you crazy the whole night with his slow and measured thrusts, his gentle and nice words and his overflowing affection, so it’s no wonder you’re already moaning loudly and fisting the sheets of his bed in very little time. Sungchan is no better than you, though. You can hear him grunting every time his hips kiss yours and feel his legs tensing beneath you. He probably planned to excessively and deliberately tease you until you were begging to cum, but he didn’t realize he’d also be overstimulating himself before getting to the finish line. It’s as annoying as it is adorable.
“Holy shit. You really look so good like this, princess,” he grunts, his eyes admiring how your ass jiggles against him with every forceful drive of his cock inside of you. “Wanna burn this image on my mind. I won’t ever forget it.”
Your chest expands at his admission, getting dizzy from the knowledge that he’s so transfixed by you that he says something like that in the heat of the moment. The feeling curls inside your chest and you smile. Maybe he does reciprocate your feelings for him. Who knows?
You open your mouth to say something teasing about his statement, but the words are long forgotten when he reaches his hand up your shoulder to wrap around it and tugs you back against him hard, moving you back to him as he continues driving himself forwards. Your loud moans of his name turn into broken whimpers of random words you don’t even remember thinking.
“So wet and warm for me, gripping me so tight,” he says above you and you wonder how he’s still capable of forming sentences when that ability is now so hard for you. “Fucking perfect.”
“Your dick is perfect,” you try to make out even though your brain is a mess. “You are perfect.”
He moans and grips you tighter, showing he understood you. “Thank you, doll. Now c'mere,” he says, moving his palm on your shoulder the other way around, hooking it under you. “Wanna feel your skin on mine when you cum.”
Again, he maneuvers you the way he wishes to. With his cock still inside you, he removes his legs from between yours to position them outside of you now, putting pressure so you have no choice but to drive your legs together. The movement makes your pussy snugger around his cock and he moans, halting for a beat to bask in the feeling of it. Then he pushes your upper half up, hauling you up with his grip on your shoulder, making you raise yourself again until your back meets his chest. You feel prickles on your arm at the close contact and sweat makes you both sticky, your skin gluing you to him as Sungchan now moves a hand to grab at one of your tits and the other one to cross over your whole waist, clinging your body to his.
You’re molded together. You won’t complain about it.
He rests his chin on your shoulder and grazes his thumbnail on your nipple, making you hiss. Then he starts moving again, his hips driving backwards and forwards with enough force to drive you away from him. Except his arms are still steady and firm around you, keeping you connected even through his hard thrusts inside of you, and you reach down to grip his thighs, your nails scratching him.
“That’s it, princess, taking me so well,” he rasps on your ear and you bite on your bottom lip to keep yourself from being too loud.
“Shit, Jinsu, I think I’m-" You try to stutter out, your voice becoming high and airy as the head of his cock rubs deliciously on your g-spot.
“Fuck yeah, I can feel you clenching around me,” he says and after his words you feel your cunt contracting even more, trying to keep him inside of you forever. “You’re going to cum for me one last time?”
“Yesyesyes.” You turn your head slightly back so you can rest your forehead on his temple. He turns his face to yours, too, and you watch as droplets of sweat fall from his hair to his face. You move your hand to his face to keep him there and Sungchan does the same with the hand that was gripping your waist, moving it to the side of your face to stroke over your cheekbone with his fingers. “I’m so close, Jinsu,” you murmur, lips ghosting over his.
“Me too, princess,” he replies and drops a kiss on the corner of your lips. “Let’s do it together, okay?”
You nod just as he slides his hand from your boob to your clit, rubbing it in quick little circles. The added stimulation on your clitoris makes you light-headed and you try to grip at the last shreds of your sanity to stay in the moment with him. Sungchan’s eyes shine against yours and you overwhelm your senses trying to concentrate on feeling everything at once. His hands and hold all over you, his fingers coaxing your orgasm out of you, his legs hitting on the back of your thighs, his hair brushing against your forehead, the smell of him and of sex – the smell of both of you together – invading your nostrils, his strength driving his hips against yours, his perfect dick hitting inside of you so good, his voice whispering dirty sweet nothings to you. And his lips that attach to yours the moment you’re on the edge of breaking apart, finally making you cum.
Sungchan kisses you while your pussy convulses on his cock and he thrusts inside you one, two, three more times until he’s spilling inside the condom. You keep clenching around him, trying to milk him until the last drop, and he keeps stroking your clit and kissing your lips. Only when your body starts twitching from the overstimulation and you grab at his forearm, he removes his hand from your cunt and detaches his lips from yours to kiss your cheek next. You sigh lazily, trembling on his arms as he pecks the same spot over and over, still muttering compliments and thank you’s. You can’t make out what he’s saying exactly because your blood is still ringing in your ears, your heart is beating rapidly, your thighs are sore and your body is starting to feel the first signs of exhaustion. So, you caress his forearm and hope it’s enough to return the sentiment.
His grip on you loosens just a little and you try to shift ahead. Sungchan, of course, notices your movement, and in no time he’s delicately laying both of you back on the bed, your heated chest rubbing against the cool sheets becoming a luxury as he keeps his rib cage connected to your back, being careful not to drop his full weight on you. He closes his lips over your shoulder blades and you indulge yourself in the attention and tenderness he’s still giving you while you catch your breath.
After some time of exchanging lazy caresses and quick kisses, he finally disconnects his body from yours, pulling out of you and getting up to tie off the end of the condom. You instantly miss his warmth and wrap a hand around his wrist, turning on your side to look at him. He smiles at you and bends over to kiss your forehead quickly.
“I have to drop this in the trash and clean myself a little. I’ll be back in a minute,” he states and gives you another kiss, this time on the lips. Then he tugs his briefs back on, turns and walks out of the bedroom in the direction of the bathroom.
You exhale deeply as you turn your head to the ceiling, watching the shadows casted on it by the small droplets of rain still falling randomly outside. Your mind starts to work right away, trying to recap everything you just lived with Sungchan to hunt for signs of his feelings for you. But you’re so tired you banish the thoughts to the back of your head, covering yourself with the bedding from your toes to your head in a feeble attempt to hide from your own mind.
Sungchan is back a minute later, laying on the bed and draping himself all over and around you. You pinch his ribs when he drops his full weight on your stomach and he laughs, pulling at the sheets to see your face and body again. Once your head is out, he threatens to tickle you in retaliation for the tweak in his chest and you lift your arms in surrender, laughing with him.
When you’re both done laughing, Sungchan takes your hands in his and pins them to the bed beside your head, then kisses you. You smile between the soft press of his lips, giddy in oxytocin and pleasure.
“You should probably use the bathroom, too,” he states when he pulls back and you know he’s right. You need to pee and freshen up. And find the courage to leave his house and go to yours. You still have an exam in the morning. “I’ll grab your clothes from the dryer while you’re at it.”
You sigh dramatically and pull yourself from the bed and Sungchan’s arms. He chuckles and hands you a sheet to cover your body before you make your way to the bathroom, murmuring about how “Shotaro could get home anytime”.
You nod and when you turn to walk away, he gives a pat at your bottom, making you yelp. You look over your shoulder to shoot daggers at him with your eyes, but the smile on your face lets him know it’s all in good fun.
Inside the restroom, you take your time peeing and stretching your limbs back to their places. You hope the soreness from being tense or in the same positions for too long will go away after a good night's sleep. Then you step into the shower to quickly rinse yourself of any bodily fluids and sweat, cleaning your hands methodically and letting some water fall into your messy hair. You wrap your body with the same towel you used earlier and move to stand in front of the mirror again to finger-comb your hair back in a ponytail. But the lilac polka dotted bow scrunchie you had on isn’t with you anymore, probably getting lost around Sungchan’s room in the midst of everything.
You come back from the bathroom and find Sungchan seated on his bed, waiting for you already dressed and with your dried clothes placed by his side, a pensive look in his face while he stares at the wall opposed to him.
“I think I lost my scrunchie,” you say to him, pouting both because your favorite hair accessory and because Sungchan is already clothed. You were hoping you’d ogle his body some more before going.
Sungchan’s head snaps up when you arrive, like you’ve caught him off guard while his mind was elsewhere, but he promptly shakes his reaction off with a smile. “We’ll search for it later.” He puts your clothes on his lap and invites you closer. “Here, I’ll help you dress.”
You saunter over to him and stand in between his legs, thinking he’s just going to hand you each piece of your clothing as you dress up. He surprises you when he picks up your panties, holding it with his two hands inside its waistband, and bends down, lowering the item so you can pass your legs through the openings.
You quirk an eyebrow up at him. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” he replies with a smirk, staying very still as you analyze him, gaze unwavering on yours. You shrug and do as he pleases, standing on one foot and then on the other as you pass your legs through the loops successfully one at a time. He tugs the underwear up until it’s placed correctly around your hips, then pinches gingerly on the place where your right thigh becomes your right butt cheek, as he proudly says, “Atta girl.”
You roll your eyes at him. “I think you’re kinda obsessed with my ass.”
He smiles and preens his neck up to kiss on your clavicle. You fight the urge to search the contact of his lips again when he retreats. “You’re right, I kinda am.” Then he picks up your bra next and signals his forefinger up and in a circular motion for you to turn around.
You turn on your heels and Sungchan’s fingertips start caressing both of your arms, moving softly along your biceps until your forearms and then to your wrists, bra still on his right hand between his pinky and ring fingers. Once he gets to your hands, he hooks the straps of the undergarment over your arms and pulls it up until each one is located on your shoulders. His hands go to your back to close the clasp, and you feel the teeth in the clip nipping slightly at your skin as he fastens it. He drops a kiss on your scapula and goosebumps raise all over your body. You wonder if he’s doing this on purpose, if his plan is to tease you and ruin you again and, at least, if this is as hot to him as it is to you. If he keeps this up, you might only get out of his place in the morning.
He grabs at your hips and turns back to him again, then holds your jeans, scrunching up the fabric of the legs so you can see the openings from the waistband until the bottom hems. That’s when you break your silence. “Is this some type of kink of yours?”
He chortles at you and holds the pants down for you to put on. You comply, passing your legs through the openings just like you did with the panties, and letting him yank it up. You pay attention to his eyes as he does it. His gaze sparkles as he watches your skin disappearing between his fingers and behind the fabric. You think it’s kind of cute and it reminds you of when you were little and did the same with your toys, changing their outfits nearly every minute. He’s playing with you as if you really are his doll, dressing you up for him. But behind the glow on his eyes, you also catch a hint of longing. Something indescribable, that you can’t quite put your finger on.
Sungchan drums his fingers around the waistband of your jeans until they go around all the way to find the button on its front. “Not a kink,” he says sincerely, pressing the button through its loop and then moving his digits down the fly to feel around for the zipper. “Just doing something nice for you.”
“Why?” You question, suspicious eyes falling over his face as he focuses on tugging the zipper up and securing your fastened pants.
He shrugs. “Because I want to.” Then, he hooks his fingers on the belt loops in front of your pants and pulls on them, therefore also pulling you to him. “Because you deserve it,” he says simply with a smile.
You blush at his words, smiling back at him and leaning down to press a kiss on his lips. You want to get lost in his mouth again. You want to get rid of your clothes once more and lay down with him in this bed for a week, finals and chores and college responsibilities be damned. But Sungchan, ever the responsible one, withdraws and puts some distance between your bodies before you get too eager.
“There’s still some clothes left to put on,” he says, snickering when you sigh in response.
You cave in to his will, collaborating with him to put your shirt over your head and then your hoodie. When you’re completely dressed and you straighten the clothes on your body, Sungchan finishes his little game of dress up by tying the strings of your sweater together with a bow. “Pretty girl,” he says.
“Pretty boy,” you say back, moving to sit on his lap, your legs perpendicular to his, one arm going around his shoulders and the other one resting over his, your fingers poking on the collar of his shirt, nails scratching the skin underneath. “I just think it’s a little unfair that I didn’t get to help you dress.”
He chuckles and moves his hand to close around yours, turning it to press his lips on your knuckles. “Maybe another time.”
You scrunch your nose up, obviously not satisfied with his reply. “Another time, then. I should probably get going anyway.”
Sungchan nods, but instead of letting you go, he pulls you close once more, wrapping his arms around your middle, his hands rubbing your back and his face hiding between your neck and shoulder. You hug him back just as tight, running your fingers through his hair while he breathes in your scent and presses kisses into every part his lips can reach. You stay like this for what feels like hours. Every time you think he’s done, he fixes his hold to hug you even tighter, almost binding you two together. When he finally slackens his grip a little, it’s only to move his hand to the back of your head and coax your lips in his. His tongue enters your mouth hungry and yearning, and you kiss him back with all the energy you can muster up. Just like all the kisses before, this one leaves you breathless and dazzled. Your mind is already fogged up and numb by the time he finally pulls back and, with moist lips and a piercing gaze, presses his mouth to yours one final time.
“You should probably get going,” he repeats back to you. You have to blink your eyes open two times to understand what he’s saying and command your wobbly legs to remember how to stand up again. “I’ll give you a ride.”
You nod at him and when you get up from his lap, Sungchan slides his hands down your shoulders to your upper arms, then to your forearms and wrists. He squeezes your hands two times before letting you go. You move to his nightstand to retrieve your cell phone, now charged and full of notifications you still leave unopened, and put it in your pocket. Then you bend down to plug the charger out of the switch.
“Uh, I actually wanted to talk to you about something before you go,” Sungchan says the moment you take the charger out and you hear the uncertainty in his words, the fear.
Your heart skips a beat, your mind already whirring with a thousand possibilities of whatever he has to say. But you try to keep your expression emotionless and your eagerness at bay while you stand upright again. “Sure. What is it?” You roll up the charger’s wire and nod to him, encouraging him to keep going before turning on your heels to put your things away in your bag.
You’re already with your back turned to him, crouching down to your backpack and opening the zipper of its front pocket when he speaks again. “You remember the girl I partnered up with for my organic chemistry project?”
You pause when you hear him. The zipper’s slide is still as ever beneath your fingertips, the sound of the teeth getting dragged away completely stopping as you remain unmoving. You can sense something is wrong. You feel it in your bones. Whatever his next words are going to be, you’ll not like it one bit.
If Sungchan notices your momentary stillness, he doesn’t make any comment about it. You feel suspended in the air, on the edge of an information that’ll make you jump over the cliff. You wish you could go back to two minutes ago, when you didn’t know he had something to tell you. But your curiosity and the red flags you so carefully stepped around before now come to the forefront of your mind. And you take the bait, dragging the teeth of the zipper back until its stop to mask up for any agitation in your voice when you reply. “The sophomore majoring in biology? Yeah, what about her?”
“We’ve been hanging out for a while now,” he replies quickly this time while you’re putting your charger inside the bag and closing the pocket back. “It’s been working out pretty well.”
You stand up, then, and Sungchan pauses. He’s probably inspecting your reaction before letting the full truth out. You know exactly what he’s going to say. He’s about to reject you, to choose her over you. You wish you couldn’t be able to hear right now. But you need to listen to him so you can move on from whatever this fucked-up thing between you two is. And you decide you need to see it, too, turning around to watch him and crossing your arms over your chest, waiting for the impact.
“I actually really like her,” he says, eyes fixed on the spot behind you on the wall, not quite looking at you. His tone is heavy on the really. He probably just likes you. But her? He really likes her.
And there it is. The whole truth. All those things you ignored before had been there for a reason. The two weeks with no contact. The text on his laptop that he scurried to hide from you. His insistence on wearing a condom. The many kisses, the slow fucking, the compliments. His intense gaze. Even his fucking words.
“I love it when you call me that.”
“I love feeling every part of you like this.”
“Wanna burn this image on my mind. I won’t ever forget it.”
“You’re fucking perfect.”
“Wanna feel your skin on mine when you cum.”
“You’re going to cum for me one last time?”
All of those words weren’t because he’s in love with you. He didn’t really miss you, either. Maybe your body, sure. But not you, not really. Not at all.
The only reason why he was saying all of that was because he was savoring his time with you. He was saying goodbye. And you fell for it like a fool.
You have every right to be mad at Sungchan for taking advantage of your vulnerable self just to fuck you one last time. He likely planned to just keep ghosting you until you got the message, but then you called him and offered the perfect opportunity of a farewell shag on a silver platter. And he wasn’t going to reject it. He played his cards right, of course.
But you’re not mad at him. At least he gave you three earth-shattering orgasms before breaking your heart.
You’re really mad with yourself. Because you fucking knew it. The signs were everywhere. His silence about the status of your relationship wasn’t because he liked you too much to confess to you or because he was afraid you’d not like him back. It was a strategy. It was about keeping you on his side for as long as he wanted to have you. Good and easy pussy. He didn’t even have to make an effort to lie to you. You did it yourself, bending the truths so you could keep being with him, in whichever way he’d let you.
Plus, there’s no way a man like Sungchan would settle for someone like you. You just choose to push away all the hints he gave you just to feed on crumbs of his affection. A trauma response or some shit like that, no doubt. You’d have to ask your psychology student friend.
God, you really are pathetic.
“You’re not going to say anything?” Sungchan asks, and you notice you’ve been lost throwing a pity party on your own thoughts for a while.
To your merit, you shake it off like a champ, smiling at him and falling into your chill girl persona. “That’s great, Jinsu,” you say, smiling even though you’re dying inside. “I guess that means we should stop meeting up, right?”
Sungchan’s eyes widen. He obviously wasn’t expecting that reaction. You’ve probably shown your feelings for him a little too much and that made him real sure you’d have an outburst. But you’re a chill girl right now.
Chill girls don’t care about their flings liking someone else. Chill girls don’t want to know everything about it, too. They aren’t curious in the slightest about how long he’s been seeing her, how many times he’s fucked her, if he calls her princess and doll too and if she’s been on the same sheets they’ve just cummed all over in.
And chill girls particularly don’t mind when their friend with benefits for half a year is choosing someone he’s only known for two months over them.
He recovers quickly, looking sheepish while he nods, his cheeks blushing. “Yeah, would that be a problem? I’m actually planning to ask her to be my girlfriend this weekend.”
Shit, you didn’t need to know that. It hurts a little too much. Your smile falters for a beat. Then you turn away from him, busying yourself with picking your backpack up to put it over your body. “No problem at all.”
But Sungchan plays with your feelings until the end, putting his hands on your shoulders to spin you back to face him. “Are you really okay with this?” He questions with his best puppy eyes.
He’s still cute while he does it. What a fucker. Now you hate him for real.
If he thinks you’re going to spill your heart out to him and ask him to choose you, pick you, love you in a rendition to Meredith Grey’s speech, he’s very wrong. You still have some pride left.
“Yes. I’m happy for you, Jinsu,” you reply through gritted teeth, the same frozen smile from earlier on your face. You can only be so chill about this and he’s pushing it.
“Oh!” He exclaims after your words, like a lightbulb went out in his head. He at least has the decency to stutter and seem embarrassed as he asks, “Uh… Would you mind going back to call me by my name, too?”
Of course. You just lost your privilege to his nickname. Jinsu is reserved for his close friends and his soon-to-be girlfriend. And, obviously, he can’t risk his new girl hearing another woman calling him such an intimate pet name. She’d have questions.
And you’re nothing for him anymore. You have to stick with his name now.
“Of course, Sungchan.”
“Thanks, princess,” he says, and you quirk an eyebrow up at him. If you can’t call him Jinsu, his nicknames for you are forbidden, too. He covers his mouth with a hand when he notices what he said. “Sorry. Y/N.”
After that, you both walk to the foyer to put on your sneakers so Sungchan can take you home. You don’t want to be in his presence anymore and you try to argue that you would be okay getting an Uber, but he blabbers on about how he insists about it and that’s the least he could do.
You agree just to get it over with. Sungchan picks his car key from the holder in the hall and opens the door for you. You get a last look at his place before stepping out. You feel weird once you’re out and the door closes behind you, realizing that you’ll never be inside his house again. The feeling churns in your heart and your eyes prickle, but you breathe deep and will it to go away.
You both are silent the whole two flights of stairs down his garage. And you stay like that while you get in his car and he turns the engine on, still not speaking a thing as he drives out of the small building complex and takes the path to your home. The only noise is the music coming out the radio and his old car sputtering up.
Luckily enough, your apartment is just a ten-minute drive from his. When he stops the car at your building’s curb, you gather your things from the carpet and say your goodbye. But Sungchan puts his hand over your, though, stopping you from opening the door.
“Can I have one last hug?” He has the audacity to ask.
That’s when you break your chill act.
You look over at him with raw and rough hatred. And he sees it, because he instantly retreats his fingers from you and flinches on his seat. “No, Sungchan,” you almost growl at him, venom dripping from your mouth. “I think your girlfriend wouldn’t like that.”
She probably will not like finding your favorite scrunchie inside the first drawer of his nightstand where you left it before getting out of his room, too. But that’s not your problem to deal with.
After your final words, you open the door and get out of his car, practically running inside your complex. You stay somber while you walk inside and wait for the elevator. You stay solemn while you ride the elevator, waiting for it to get to your floor. You even remain serious while you type your code in and finally get inside your house.
But when you take your shoes off and drop your bag on the floor, your entryway light flickers over your head for a few seconds until the bulb goes out, leaving you in complete darkness. You stare into the dark and are also met with the silent empty space of your apartment.
You move your hand to the bow on your hoodie, the last snippet of your encounter with Sungchan you still have on. You pull on the strings and it disappears. Then you break down, curling over yourself until you’re on your knees, releasing loud sobs with chunks of tears coming out of your eyes.
What comes after is… being utterly alone. 
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author’s note: phew! thank you for reading this little monster. please consider letting me know what you think about it in the comments or my askbox. feel free to scream at me all you want, i welcome it! <3
175 notes · View notes
papercorgiworld · 2 days
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I don't need space, I need you
This is the requested Draco and Enzo version
Read the Mattheo and Theo version here.
I present you cuteness overload with needy Draco and Enzo and some sassy insults towards Matt and Theo, because I can't resist adding banter and jokes. To the person that requested this, thank you! ☺️ To the people that have sent in requests or casual small talk I'm slowly working through my inbox... I will get to it one day... just know that I love all you darlings and I'm very grateful for your messages. Now, time to get to some reading, I hope you enjoy it, sending you all lots of love! 💛
Draco
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“What’s the point of having a girlfriend if I can’t find her.” Draco complains, approaching his friends relaxing by the fireplace in the Slytherin common room. “Have any of you seen here?” Enzo looks up at the impatient blond. “I think she said something about studying with Granger.” Draco is about to start whining about you not being there and instead spending time with Hermione Granger of all people, when he’s interrupted by a snorting Mattheo. “Finally a moment of peace for my fallen brother. Sit and enjoy your freedom before miss clingy returns.” Theodore and Enzo chuckle and Draco feels forced to at least smile at Mattheo’s comment. “Yeeah-, finally peace.” Draco tries his best to sound convincing, but to him peace was cuddling with you, not hanging out with mister mommy and daddy issues, the Italian manwhore and Enzo. The latter picked up on Draco’s reluctance to sit down. “If you miss her so much, maybe you should go look for her?” Theo laughed at Enzo’s suggestion thinking it was a joke and Draco feels the need to make it absolutely clear that he doesn’t miss you at all. “No! If she gets any more cuddly and clingy I’m gonna need to hide from her. And she’s always so nosy, why does she always need to know how my day was? I'll tell her if she needs to know anything.” Mattheo chuckles and offers his friend a drink, but to Draco that did not make up for missing out on time with you.
Your excitement to tell Draco about your day was replaced by a wrecking sadness that made your tears well up. Clingy. Too cuddly. Nosy. As you turn on your heels to leave the common room before anyone notices you, you almost bump into someone because your eyes are getting blurry. Worried that you had been the most annoying girlfriend ever you decided to do better. Draco had been a wonderful boyfriend so far and you really didn’t want to screw this up by being overwhelming. 
***
“He’s a guy and it’s Draco. I’m just giving him some space.” You explained to Luna and Hermione, who both frowned as you joined them in the stands of the quidditch stadium without wishing your boyfriend luck as he left the barracks. Normally you would kiss him passionately in front of everyone and he would hug you tight before he hopped on his broom, but today you wished him luck at breakfast and that was it. You thought you were giving him space as you smiled at him from the stands, but instead you were giving your boyfriend a heart attack as he spotted you so far away. “Hey, Malfoy! The game is about to start. Get on your broom.” Theodore yelled annoyed. “But- but-” Draco’s eyes moved from you to Theo and back to you. The game could not possibly start without you wishing him luck. Confused Draco eventually got on his broom, but his head was nowhere near the game. 
***
Fred and George cheerfully ran up to you and George even picked you up for a moment, making you laugh. Gryffindor had won and the boys were convinced you aided in their victory. “Never wish Draco luck anymore!” Fred yelled and George put you back down as he noticed how confused you were. “I’ve known chickens who fly better than he flew today.” You frowned at the statement. “You think it was because I didn’t wish him any luck before the game?” Both nodded and then left as they were distracted by other people cheering. 
A little worried you slowly made your way in the direction of the changing room. Most of the slytherin team had already made their way to the common room, mainly to keep a pissed off Mattheo from throwing punches, but Draco wasn’t with them so you guessed he was sulking by himself.
You gently push the door open and it reveals a defeated, sweaty and shirtless Draco sitting in an empty room. He hadn’t even made it to the showers yet, his head resting against the wall behind him like it would fall off if it didn’t have any support. His eyelids slowly open and he ssees your worried figure standing at the door. Why is she not rushing to be by my side? Why is she being so distant? Is she going to break up with me? His head was spinning and his heart was aching. “Bad game, huh.” You eventually speak up and Draco just huffs in response. “If you’re going to break up with me just do it already. I’m having a bad day, but I can handle it.” Draco’s eyes look dull and his voice sounds soulless. He gets up and takes a few steps towards you, studying you as you look absolutely shocked. Once you process his words you immediately rush towards him, your eyes pained at the idea of breaking up with the man you so love. 
“I’m not breaking up with you!”. Your voice is surprisingly loud and there is a hint of fear in your words as you worry he was going to end things with you. Your hands rest on Draco’s arms and he shakes his head, not understanding why you were so distant earlier. “Then why didn’t you wish me luck?” You're baffled at the question, it was obvious to you why and you didn’t expect him to care for it. “You said I was too cuddly and too clingy. So I thought it best to give you some space and not overwhelm you before a game. I wished you luck this morning.” 
Draco looks at you like you had just said the dumbest thing ever. “Space? I don’t want space! I want you. I need you! I love you.” Your eyebrows knit together. “But I clearly heard you say-” Draco shakes his head. “When did I ever say you were too clingy… or cuddly. It’s why I love you so much.” You take a step back from your boyfriend. “Yesterday, in the common room, you were talking with Riddle, Berkshire and Nott.” Draco opens his mouth in realisation and then clenches his jaw as he curses himself. He takes a step and closes the distance you had created between you two. “Yeah… I said that… but I didn’t mean it. I said it because I felt that the truth was a bit embarrassing.” You look at your boyfriend with questioning eyes. “Not really cool to tell your mates that you’re looking for your girlfriend because you want to snuggle and watch the stars from the astronomy tower.” You give him a soft smack on the head and he looks at you with apologetic eyes. “I felt horrible after hearing you say those things.” Draco pulls you into his chest. “Shouldn’t have listened in.” He jokes, but you don’t think it’s funny at all and you try to push free from his arms. However you are unsuccessful but Draco apologises. “I shouldn’t have said those things, because I’m just one big softy for you. Nothing tough about me when it comes down to you.” Gently his lips search yours and you’re hesitant at first to kiss your idiotic boyfriend, but when he apologises again you let his lips meet yours for a sweet kiss. 
“So next game, kisses and hugs?” You ask and Draco nods. “Yes. And I don’t think a single slytherin is going to mock us for being too clingy since the only chance we have at winning the quidditch cup is with you by my side.” Nothing tough about Draco at all. Just a needy boyfriend. You think to yourself as you kiss him. 
Enzo
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“Pans!” Enzo squeals dramatically as he enters the slytherin common room. “Where is the future missus Berkshire? Can’t find her anywhere.” Before Pansy can answer Enzo’s question Mattheo puts his book down grinning at his friend. “Can’t be without her for even a second?” Enzo’s excitement drops as he notices everyone is looking up now, curious what Enzo’s answer will be. Enzo was always a bit different from his nonchalant and stoic friends. He knew the tough act didn’t suit him and he was confident enough to just be himself, but right now he was a bit worried. He felt himself get nervous and chuckled at Riddle’s question. “Told you, he’s absolutely whipped.” Draco says with an arrogant tone as he raises his eyebrows, challenging Enzo.
“She was at the Library with Luna, but I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.” Pansy finally answers, after rolling her eyes at Draco’s arrogance. “Good, that gives me a few more minutes free of her… because I am not whipped. She’s the one that always wants to be near me.” Mattheo leans back and nods along, pretending to believe Enzo. “Oh really, so why do you keep putting up with it?” Enzo sits down, lounging casually. “I like her so I put up with her clinginess, but honestly I don’t need her around all the time. The hugs and kisses… that’s all her… not me.” 
You had only taken three steps in the common room before stopping. You felt your legs get wobbly at your boyfriend’s words. You take quiet steps backwards and hurry out of the common room. Obviously you were not wanted there.
However, you missed out on Pansy’s loud snickering. “Oh please, Enzo! You liar!” Enzo is absolutely shocked at Pansy’s accusations, but no one else is as all his friends start laughing. “You couldn’t go a day with her.” Draco says, shaking his head at Enzo’ sad attempt at trying to act indifferent towards you. “Alright, alright. I can’t stand being without her! I love her. I need her.” Mattheo laughs, satisfied with Enzo’s confession. “There’s the real Berkshire I know.” Enzo lets his head fall back, bracing for days of mocking and jokes about his attachment to you. 
***
“Oh yeah! Sounds fun. I’ll be there.” Enzo overhears you agreeing to go to Hogsmeade with the golden trio and leans over his desk towards you. “Hey, hey! You can’t go to Hogsmeade with them on Saturday, we were going.” You turn in your seat towards your boyfriend and kiss him on the cheek. “You can go with your friends. We don’t have to do everything together.” Your answer hurts Enzo and his eyebrows knit together. Yes we do, what else is the purpose of a relationship. But before your boyfriend can protest out loud the professor enters the classroom.
***
“Look at her.” Enzo complains to an uncaring Theodore Nott. “The entire week she’s been distant, always better things to do than being with me and now this.” A frustrated Enzo gestures your way and Theo shrugs. “What am I supposed to do?” Enzo whines.
“Kidnap her and lock her up, then you have her all to yourself.” Mattheo suggests, making Theo frown and offer his own advice on the matter. “No, don’t listen to abandonment issues over here. Just get a new girlfriend.” Blaise just facepalms at the realisation he is the only sane one in his friend group. “Ignore both abandonment issues and attachment issues and just go talk to your girlfriend like a normal person.” Blaise emphasises the last words as he glares judgingly at Mattheo and Theo who both act offended. Enzo nods, realising that Blaise was right.
You notice your boyfriend strutting over to you and your friends from across the street and excuse yourself to meet him halfway. “Hey you.” You whisper and Enzo immediately smiles, feeling relieved that you're still your sweet self. “I miss you.” Your boyfriend blurs, even surprising himself with his honesty. “You wanna have dinner together tonight?” You offer, but Enzo shakes his head making you frown. “No. I mean yes, obviously I would like that, but it’s not just that I want to do just one thing with you. We’ve barely spent time together this week.” An uncomfortable laugh escapes you, but you repress it when you notice how sad Enzo’s eyes are. “We’ve spent plenty of time together, besides you’re a guy, you need your space. I don’t want to suffocate you with hugs and kisses all the time.” 
Enzo is baffled at your words. “I’m a guy so I need space. What’s that supposed to mean?” There was a slight tone of agitation in his voice that made you take a step back, but he was quick to close the distance by taking a step closer. “Who put all these crazy ideas in your head of needing to give me space and suffocating me with love?” Your face falls at his harsh tone, but you bite back. “It was you. You were the one that said you wanted to be free of me for a few minutes and that I was the needy one and you had to put up with my clinginess. It was you, Enzo Berkshire, you idiot. So you have no right to complain about me giving you space, since you asked for it.” Enzo’s jaw clenches at your accusation. “I did not!” You cross your arms and raise your eyebrows. “I heard you with Pansy, Matt and Draco.” 
Enzo frowns for a moment, but when he remembers his eyes widen and a laugh escapes his lips. “You believed that?” He asks and you just stare at him in confusion. “They didn’t believe any of it. I was trying to convince them I wasn’t some whipped guy that couldn’t be without his girlfriend for a second, but they saw right through me.” You unfold your arms and Enzo takes your hands in his. “I don’t need space, I need you. So please don’t force me to go days without your hugs and kisses. You don’t suffocate me, if anything I suffocate without you.” You kiss him tenderly and out of excitement Enzo picks you up, making you squeal softly. “Please spend the day with me?” You nod and kiss your boyfriend’s pouty lips. 
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inniefulme · 2 days
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you're so forgetful !
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summary ; in which the skz members are your boyfriend and: you asked them to do something/had something to do but forgot to do it and now you're mad so now they try to apologize!
bf!skz x shorttempered!reader
notes ; my last post got WAY more attention than intended so now i am incredibly worried about finishing the actual thing fast.. here's a little something while you wait teehee (update: i forgot this app even existed WTFF i swear school has been busy please understand)
warnings ; swearing, some sexual jokes at bin and hyune's part but not tm, didn't exactly go throufh everything so might have some spelling/grammar mistakes so i apologize in advance !!!! reader isn't mentioned in the story, lmk if i miss anything <3
© inniefulme on tumblr. do not repost, remake, or steal.
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bang chan
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you probably asked him to defreeze the meat in the fridge when you left to buy groceries and other home needs but he forgot to because he was so engrossed on his computer and even had the time to go live for stays !!!! and he couldn't even take the meat out.. (ik what ur thinking)
you were definitely MAD because you wanted to have a nice dinner with him and you already planned everything out, it was already 10 pm when u got back too :( now you're ignoring him after you scolded him for forgetting
"y/n, please, i'm sorry. i swear i really did forget." is all he could say, he's too confused to think of what to say because he knew he messed up bad time when you're even rejecting his spoilers for the next come back like ??????
he'd be sitting in front of his computer thinking about what could possibly be a way to win you back, he even decided to go live again to ask stays. some said get you something you would like, or maybe just keep saying sorry.
he decided to do the next best thing, keep saying sorry of course!
"y/n, i'm really sorry. please forgive me, please, please?" he begs right in front of you kneeling down as u sat down on the couch completely ignoring his presence while you watched the tv.
he looked so sad at this point, ready to give up as he sat beside you. "i really am.." he pouted, leaning his head against your shoulder. you of course couldn't bare seeing him like that anymore and gave up, patting his head
"it's fine.. stop whining." you said, which chan immediately perked up hearing and looked up at you again. "are you sure? really?" he tries to get your confirmation first.
"yes.. don't worry." you replied, which made him sigh in relief as he placed your hand on his. "i really just, really am sorry. i won't let this happen again okay? even though it was about some meat in the fridge." you laughed, nodding. "promise?"
"promise." he kisses the back of your hand and smiled widely
lee know
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genuinely i didn't know what he'd forget to do the most so i just thought of something dumb
and what dumb is it? you asked him to login to your game later so you don't lose you streak of course!
and he still forgot because he slept, woke up, played with the cats, eat and slept again probably
now you're pissed off because you were on your 143 streak and he ruined it :(
"oh come on it's just a game.." he makes up an excuse. "a game i spent hours on! don't you know how long it took to login that much and now you made me lose my streak?!" you crossed your arms, pouting
"you're overreacting, c'mere." he extends his hands out. "no, i'm mad." you looked away
"oh please, i'm not falling for that.." well i guess he did because you kept on ignoring him for 3 hours straight which made him go insane ngl not being able to touch you, especially when you're at home with him and still REFUSING physical contact
"okay fine, i'm sorry okay? please open the door, soonie wants to see you." he knocks on the door. "is it soonie or you're the one who wants to see me?" you asked
"both. now open up." he keeps on knocking and refusing to stop, which made you annoyed. "the door isn't even locked dumbass." you yelled out, which made him silent for a moment before opening the door
"could've told me before.." he rolls his eyes playfully, before getting in bed with you. "i really am sorry okay, don't ignore me like that ever again." he snuggles up with you as soonie joined in
"then don't do something like that again.." you groaned. "i promise, okay?" he assures you, holding you in his arms tight
changbin
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here's an interesting one!
ahm.. something like lee know's maybe? he forgot to... do the laundry?????
that's all i could think of sorry
no bc u told him to do it like 4 hours ago while u had some work to do, you didn't even leave the house or anything but no now it's 10 pm and he still forgot womp womp
your favorite shirt is in the pile too and you were planning on wearing it tmrw when u and binnie go out :((((
"you could've set a reminder at least?!" you scolded him, which he just sat there in the couch crossing his arms feeling bad because he knew it was his fault
"i forgot to set one too.." he mutters, looking up at you. "you're too forgetful sometimes, it's bad!"
"it can't be helped okay!" changbin snaps back, before he pulled you onto his lap and groaned. "sorry. stop being so mad about it, you can find other shirts that could fit on you."
"but you said you loved that one the most.." you pouted. "you look good in anything, and i'll love you no matter. it doesn't make much of a difference." he says while running his hand through your hair "i just loved it because it compliments your body the most." he smirks
"hmph.." you whine, refusing to touch him in any sort of way despite already being on top of him. "come on, i said i'? sorry..?" he cups your cheeks, before playing with it for a while. "here, i'll let you buy something from my phone.. how about that?" your ears perk up, as you quickly take a glance at him. "promise?" you asked. "promise, bub."
you smiled, before wrapping your arms around his neck and hugged him. "thsnk you~" you cooed, as changbin laughs it off. "in one other condition.." he adds
"let me do anything to you tonight, eh?" he raises an eyebrow teasingly, which made you blush a bit but simply shrugged it off as you hit him playfully
"ow!" he pretends to be hurt, as you pouted. "i guess that's a yes, hm love?" he chuckles, pulling his phone out of his pocket
hyunjin
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let's say he forgot it was your date today, except like teeny bit worse
you were already dressed up, did a bit of makeup and everything, only to see him lying on the couch with the remote on his hand, skimming through the channels on the tv
you were genuinely confused, thinking you got the date wrong or anything, but no, it really was today
"hyune? why aren't you ready yet?" you asked. "hm? where we going?" he looks up from the couch, sitting up as he looks at you for a moment, smilinf at your appearance. "you're kidding right? you said we have a date."
"date? when?" he tilts his head to the side. "i don't remember setting one for us, you're messing things up babe." that is, until his phone alarm rang with the title; 'date with y/n'
you would agree that if he simply forgot and just needed a reminder, he'd be off the hook. but even saying YOU were the one messing things up despite being the one planning the whole thing is just another story
"oh fuck.." he mutters as he looks at his phone. not only that, he set it 2 hours after the actual date, now you both missed your reservation. "hwang hyunjin. are you kidding me right now?" you cross your arms, clearly mad
"i'm sorry, i totally forgot.. i was just-"
"too busy with the damn tv? oh i can see that!" you cut him off, now scolding him. "now we missed the reservation!" you groaned, stomping yout feet towards your room..
"babe, look, i'm really sorry okay? i didn't mean to." hyunjin tries to apologize, standing behind you in front of the mirror while you removed your not-too-much-of-makeup-but-still-was-something makeup that took work
"pleasee? i can still make it up to you, we can go elsewhere." he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting hid chin on your shoulder
"anywhere you want, my treat, you don't even have to do anything but enjoy yourself, how about that?"
your furrowed eyebrows slowly went upwards, as you stared at him from the mirror. "anything..?"
"yes, love." he kisses your cheek. "anything." you contemplate it for a moment, before you sighed. "fine.. since we're still going."
"there we go, there's my lover." he giggles, pinching your cheek. "no need for you to wear any makeup or change, your perfect as you are. i'll be taking your clothes off later eitherway." he says laughing, running his hand through your hair
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xoxochb · 2 days
Note
percy Jackson x Aphrodite!reader fic based on “I can see you” by Taylor swift?🤭
— I can see you
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warnings: allusions to sex, heavy make out, secret relationship trope, I would say this is the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written but I’m not really sure... pairing: percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite a/n: I can see you, my beloved 😋
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It started when he brushed past you in the hallway. you had been leaving the big house after arguing with mr. d about the unfair camp dress code, demanding different color shirts for each cabin. he said yes thanks to your charmspeak. this wasn’t the point though— you walked by percy jackson, the only son of poseidon, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours, when you look back you find he had been already looking at you, then nearly walked into a wall in a daze, a laugh escape your lips. the day after the interaction you received a note at your bedside table, you asked the all-knowing drew who sent it but she said it must have arrived while you were asleep. you sat up and took the note into your hands reading in scribbles and mixed words:
“meet me tonight” signed P. J.
you bite your lip as your cheeks erupt in a pink flush. and so it goes. you wouldn’t call it exactly a ‘relationship’ because A) it was secret and B) most of you’re little meet ups were just sleepless nights spent in the privacy of cabin three, pleasurable moans escaping your mouths as your hands take fistfuls of his sheets in your hand. you’d leave early in the morning before your siblings woke and it had been a routine at this point. It had become an addiction, like if he wasn’t touching your skin you would perish at any moment, you’re just lucky percy was unable to see the things that you see in your head— though, most had come true by now
tonight you had successfully left your cabin after the last of your siblings had fallen victim to hypnos’ hands you left out your window and arrived at the poseidon cabin. you’d grown to love the salty air scent surrounding it, something you held dear to you. you’d never be able to go to the beach normally again without thinking of the activities taken place in cabin three. that was a thought for later, though because right now your main focus is slipping your shirt over your head and quickly reconnecting your lips with percy’s hands fumble to unzip your jeans and slide them down your legs
“eager, are we?” you joke, and he laughs into your mouth, making the butterflies swarm in your stomach. you’re sure it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve done this because every time he kisses you it sends you into a euphoric state of ecstasy, and with the way he handles you gently, taking care of you after, it’s pure bliss. you take a fistful of his dark hair in your hands, inducing a groan from him. gods, you could die happy right now. you allow him to trace his hands up your skin finding the back of your lacy bra to unclip it and slowly slide it off, your bare skin against his like puzzle pieces made to connect into one as the night passes. and you’re sure you see the gates to elysium every time he’s whispering sweet things we you’re doing such bad things
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Text
Everything Is As It Should Be » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Husband/Dad!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Mom/Pregnant!Reader with daughter Jamie and Alpine
Summary: Everything is as it should be with you, Bucky, and Jamie.
Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, nicknames/pet names
A/N: This is part 2 to The Truth Is Out. This part isn’t as long as the first part. It’s going to be brief. Enjoy!
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.
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Shortly after Bucky found out Jamie is his daughter, they developed a strong father daughter relationship. You and Bucky picked up where you two left off a few years ago. You two are now married, have the most beautiful daughter, you’re almost 7 months pregnant with a baby boy, and you guys adopted a cute white cat named Alpine. Jamie is now 6 years old and just started first grade. Everything is as it should be now.
As of right now, you’re watching TV and giving Alpine lovings while waiting for Bucky to come home from picking Jamie up from school. A moment later, the door opened and you heard familiar footsteps enter the house. Jamie instantly ran to the living room to greet you and Alpine. She dropped her backpack on the floor and got up onto the couch to give you hugs and kisses.
“Hi, mommy!” Jamie says happily.
“Hi, sweetie!” You smiled. “Did you have a good day at school today?” You asked her.
“Yes!” She answers.
“Tell me about it.” You say.
“We got to play on the playground at recess and we painted…” Jamie continued to tell you everything about her day.
Bucky walks in the living room and sat down on the couch next to you. He kissed the side of your head and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He listened to Jamie tell you about her day at school, even though she told him about it in the car on the way home.
“Oh! I made a new friend today!” Jamie exclaims happily.
“You did?” You smiled, happy that your daughter made a new friend. “What’s her name?” You asked.
“Stephanie. She just moved here from Ohio.” She tells you.
“That’s great, Jamie. You two are going to be great friends.” You say.
“Just like daddy and uncle Stevie?” She asks, looking from you to her daddy.
“Just like me and uncle Stevie.” Bucky confirms, smiling at his daughter.
Jamie opened her mouth to say something else, but the baby kicked, which cause her attention.
“The baby did that thingy!” Jamie exclaims, pointing at your baby bump.
“That means he likes hearing you talk.” You tell her, putting a hand on your baby bump.
“No way!” She says like she just heard the most interesting thing ever.
“Yes way!” You confirmed.
“I would tell him about my math homework, but I think he’ll find that boring.” She says.
“Probably.” You say, making her giggle.
Jamie carefully slid off of the couch and picked up her backpack, going to her bedroom to do her homework. Alpine jumped off the couch and followed her to her room. You turned your head toward your husband and gave him a kiss on his lips.
“We have the happiest daughter ever.” Bucky says softly.
“We do.” You mused.
Bucky put his right hand on your baby bump, just in time for the baby to kick. He smiles widely at the feeling of it against his hand.
“Hey there, little soldier.” He says softly, smiling down at your baby bump.
You smiled and put your hand over his. You snuggled yourself against his side.
“Everything is as it should be.” He said. “Me, you, Jamie, and our little soldier.” He says with happily.
“Don’t forget about Alpine!” You say with a playful pout.
“I could never forget about her.” He says, kissing you.
You and Bucky pulled away when you two heard Jamie’s footsteps entering the living room. She had a piece of paper in her hands.
“I thought you were doing your homework, little missy.” Bucky says, using his dad voice.
“I was, but I almost forgot to show you and mommy something.” Jamie says.
Jamie climbed up onto the couch, seating herself in between the two of you, making you and Bucky scoot over so she had some room on the couch.
“I drew this at school during our 5 minute break.” She showed you two a stick figure picture. “This is mommy, daddy, Pine Pine, me, and bubba.” She explains, pointing at each stick figure in the picture.
Jamie calls Alpine Pine Pine for short and her soon to be baby brother bubba. She knows you and Bucky are going to be naming the baby James Buchanan Barnes Jr, but she just calls him bubba for now.
“This is amazing, sweetie.” You say with a smile.
“Looks like we have a little artist on our hands.” Bucky says, smiling.
“I’m going to draw more after I do my homework.” She says.
Jamie carefully slid off of the couch and put the drawing on the coffee table so you two can look at it again before going back to her bedroom to do her homework.
“I love you so much, doll.” Bucky says with his hand on your belly, kissing you sweetly.
“I love you too, Bucky Bear.” You say, smiling against his lips.
“I love you guys too!” Jamie shouts from her bedroom, making you two smile.
“We love you too, sweetie.” You two shout back with smiles on your faces.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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Note
Perhaps Hal Jordan or Clark kent with cuddling. Like just them coming home after a stressed day and you just take care of them the best you can. U offer sex but they don’t want it. Just wanting to be in ur presence for a bit yk yk
Clark Kent x Male reader
Headcanons
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Hey nerds, guess who’s not dead. I feel like I am, but apparently, I’m not. Classes are kicking my ass because of very cramped timelines and long days. Who’d have thought becoming a caretaker (idk the English word) would be so difficult. A shorty, but still something I enjoyed writing.
It wasn’t a common occurrence. For Clark to come home so worn out and tired. As a man powered by the sun, a man of steel as he so regularly gets called, its very difficult to him feeling so worn down.
For the most part, the days he comes home in this mood, is not because he’s exhausted physically, but rather mentally. Be it from difficult missions, or just long days at work where he’s talked down too or pushed aside.
There is something soft and cute about him like this, though you would never tell him that. he’s always a little whinier and poutier, but also cuddlier, if that’s even possible for a guy who seems to live off affectionate contact with you.
The first thing Clark does when he comes home from days like this, is kick off whatever he’s wearing and change into something else. Most days its some ancient washed-out sweatshirts from his university days. The kind that’s been washed so many times the logo is mostly gone, and the fabric is worn thin and soft.
Its either that, or if you’re bigger than him, then it’s one of your shirts. That or just a pair of boxers and socks, so he can crawl into your space and flop down there like a big lazy cat.
If possible, Clark tries to crawl up into your shirt, laying his head on your stomach or your chest, ear pressed against your skin to listen to your heart, even if he can easily do that anywhere on the planet. Being so close just puts him at ease.
You cant hear it, but you know he’s purring, even if it’s a frequency you can’t pick up. At this point you can only really rub his back and let him soak up the affection and touch he needs like a wilted flower in the sun.
When he starts pressing featherlight kisses against your torso, you start to think maybe Clark wants something more, since he starts kneading at your sides, like you’re made from playdough, and he wants to mold you into something else.
His hands are so big and strong that you almost feel like playdough, with how insistent his rubbing and kneading can get. His kisses never go beyond soft pecks and barely there brushes of his lips, Clarks head just moving from side under your shirt as he lays on top of your legs.
You don’t need words in a situation like this, your hands becoming more exploratory, rubbing between his shoulders and tapping your fingers at his spine, like he’s a harp you’re plucking the strings off.
The change in your scent must catch his attention too, as Clark lifts his head just enough for you to see him through the collar of it, his eyes soft and glistening. They remind you of marbles, in a way. So shiny and with that clash of shades of blue.
The small downwards pout of his lips and minimal shake of his head is all you need to know, that going farther isn’t what he wants. So, you just give a nod in reply and place a hand on the back of his head, bringing him back down again.
You don’t really understand why he feels so much comfort under your shirt like this. Maybe it’s the enclosed feeling of it all, the shirt, and sometimes blanket you put on top, closing him off from the rest of the world.
Maybe its just the closure, and being surrounded by your scent, which always seems to put him at ease, or rile him up, depending on your own mood.
You don’t hate it though, you never could, not when its Clark. So, instead you just lay back, rubbing your hands slowly up and down his back and Clark nuzzles deeper against you, letting him rest there for as long as he needs.
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candycandy00 · 2 days
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Finding Love in a Zombie Apocalypse - A JJK Interactive Romance Fanfic Round 2
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Read the details about this event here!
During a zombie apocalypse, you meet a group of seven handsome men. Which one will you choose to be your survival/romantic partner?
Vote for the man you want to be eliminated! The man with the most votes will not be killed off in the story, but he will be removed from all future polls and his branching story will be closed off!
Reminder: Vote for the man you DO NOT want to survive with! You are voting someone OUT!
For the first two rounds, I’m not naming the men. You can probably figure out who is who, but that’s part of the fun! I’m doing it this way to encourage readers to vote based on the scenario rather than just automatically voting out their least fave character. Feel free to make guesses about who each man is!
In Round 1, Man #1, Choso, was eliminated!
Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!
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You’ve decided to stick with this group for the time being. They’re a nice mix of strong, smart, and caring. None of them come across as creepy or make you uncomfortable, which is saying a lot considering it’s a group made up entirely of men relatively close to your age. 
You spend the evening gathering what supplies you need into a duffel bag you found in the store’s rather scant sporting goods section. At night, one of them insisted you sleep in the stock room and keep the key until morning. He really was very considerate, and none of the others objected. 
The next day, someone makes coffee in the break room. You don’t know which one did it, but it’s the first cup you’ve had in over a week and tastes delicious. With foam cup in hand, you walk over to the front entrance to check the situation outside, only to find the man who called out to you yesterday keeping watch.
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Man #1: Choso (Eliminated in Round 1)
He’s standing near the door, slightly to the side, still as a statue until you approach. 
“Want me to bring you some coffee?” you ask, taking a sip from your cup. 
He smiles at you. “Thanks, but I had some already.”
You gesture toward the entrance. “Anything new going on out there?”
“No, just a dozen or so zombies roaming around,” he replies. “They come close to the door sometimes, but with these tinted windows they can’t see much of what’s inside.��
You hadn’t realized they were tinted until he mentioned it, but you suppose that’s why everything looks so dreary outside. 
As you stare out the window, you notice something in the distance. You squint your eyes, trying to make out if it’s just another zombie or something else. As you watch, the figure picks up speed, breaking into a run. 
“Look! There’s someone out there!” you shout, pointing to the figure fleeing toward the store. 
The man beside you looks out through the glass door. “It’s definitely a living person!”
Behind the figure, a large group of zombies, perhaps the biggest group you’ve seen, is slowly giving chase. The figure stumbles, hits the ground, and you feel your heart race. You’ve witnessed zombie attacks before, but it’s always disturbing. And you can’t help thinking that this could easily have been you yesterday. 
You want to open the door and beckon the figure, but that’s not your call to make. You’re a guest with this group, and you don’t have the right to put their safety at risk. 
Thankfully, the kind hearted man beside you makes that choice. He flings the door open and calls out, “Hey! Run this way! To the grocery store!” 
The figure looks up, and from this distance they appear to be a young man. He scrambles to his feet and breaks into another run, a desperate dash for the store. 
You and the man both yell out to him, encouraging him to hurry and keep going. Just as he runs through the door, two zombies that must have been close to the entrance follow him in, shambling into the store.
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Man #2:
Before anyone else can react, the large, imposing man who tore the zombies off you yesterday runs by you. With his bare hands he picks up the first zombie by the neck and literally throws it outside. Then he delivers a devastating punch to the second zombie’s head, knocking it clean off its shoulders. 
You yelp in surprise, having never seen someone kill a zombie in such a way before. Someone closes the door and locks it, but the herd of zombies definitely saw the young man run inside, because they’re heading straight for the store. 
Backing away from the door, you glance at the man who took care of the two zombies. “Do you think the glass will hold?”
He doesn’t seem the least bit scared. “Probably not against a horde like that.”
“What should we do?” you ask, trying not to sound panicked as the zombies close in. 
He grins. “You should run when they break in. I’ll tear the fuckers apart.”
Uncertain whether that statement is comforting or alarming, you turn to look at the newcomer. He’s a teenager, probably around sixteen, and he’s panting to catch his breath. 
You walk over to him. “Are you alright?”
He looks up at you, and his face is twisted in horror. “I’m so sorry!” he yells, tears in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have come in here!”
“It’s alright,” you tell him, reaching your hand out to pat his shoulder. “We’ll figure something out. We’ll-“
He swats your hand away. “Don’t! I… I’ve been…” his voice dies in his throat, and he pulls up the sleeve of his shirt, displaying a messy bite wound.
You inhale sharply, your heart sinking at the sight. He’s just a kid! “How long ago?” you ask. You’ve heard rumors that severing a limb with a bite will stop the spread of the virus, but it has to be done quickly. 
“Yesterday,” he answers. 
The man who fought the zombies steps up beside you. “Too long,” he says, his eyes narrowed as he looks at the wound. “We should probably throw him out. He’s no good to us.”
You look at him incredulously. “We can’t do that!”
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Man #3:
The man you spoke to yesterday who seemed like a leader, who was clearly a planner, walks over. He looks at the boy, then at you. “We’ll need to discuss this,” he says. 
“Discuss what? What are the options here?” you ask him. “Let him stay or toss him out there to be eaten alive?!”
The man’s smooth expression doesn’t change. “Those aren’t the only options. We could tie him up, lock him in the break room, or even give him a quick and painless death.”
You feel your outrage subsiding. Those sound much more reasonable. You’re surprised he can think so rationally in this situation. “Okay. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
He smiles that same charming, not-quite-genuine smile he gave you yesterday. “Don’t be. Tensions are running high, so it’s understandable. I’d worry more if you were the type to want to throw him out immediately.”
You sigh in relief, then turn toward the boy, who is still muttering apologies. “What would you like for us to do? Restrain you? Or… or make it so you don’t turn?”
The boy looks up at you. “I don’t want to turn! Please, don’t let me end up like them! I’d do it myself but I’m too scared!”
Hearing such a young man say that is heartbreaking. But you understand. If you ever get bitten, you hope someone will kill you before letting you become a zombie, doomed to roam the earth, rotting and attacking others. 
The man pulls a blade from a holster on his hip and approaches the boy. “Are you ready? Or do you need more time?”
The boy hesitates for a moment, then nods. “I’m ready. Please make it quick!”
The man pats him on the back affectionately. “You’re very brave. You can rest easy now. I’ll make sure you don’t suffer.”
The boy is staring at him, and seems comforted. “Thanks,” he says with teary eyes. 
You turn your head, unable to watch. You don’t hear a sound. No scream, not even a grunt. It really must have been painless. When you look back, the man is easing the boy’s body to the floor. He looks thoughtful, maybe a little sad. 
“I’m sorry you had to do that,” you say. 
He’s wiping his blade off on a handkerchief. “Someone has to make the tough decisions, and then carry them out.”
You start to ask why that had to be him, but you remain silent. You don’t like the way he seems to be taking all the darkness and sadness onto himself. But you have bigger things to worry about right now.
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Man #4: 
The man you saw standing guard yesterday, who said he wanted to go back to the city, is staring out the windows of the store, watching the growing horde approach. He doesn’t seem scared, only annoyed, as if this is no more than a minor obstacle to his plans. 
“I’m gonna get out of here,” he says, loud enough for the others to hear. “I don’t have time to get held up.”
You look at him in shock. “You’re just going to leave the rest of us?”
He looks at you dispassionately. “A group will draw their attention a lot more than a single person. I’m not getting stuck with these guys.”
You look him up and down, at his sturdy physique. “But, we need you.”
“You ever stop to think that maybe someone else needs me?”
The question takes you aback. You have no answer for him. If he’s that desperate, if he’s willing to wade through countless zombies to get to the city, there must be someone very important to him there. 
“Can you at least wait a little while?” you ask him. “The zombies might give up and wander off if they can’t see us through the tinted windows.”
The man sighs. “Fine. I’ll see what happens.”
You look out at the horde. The first few zombies have reached the front of the store and are clawing at the windows and doors. You shudder as you watch them. You’ve never seen so many before, or so close up in a situation where you can actually get a good look at them. If one is close, you’re usually fleeing or trying to kill it. 
They’re all staring straight ahead, seemingly at nothing. Can they see their own reflections in the glass? Can they even perceive themselves? Seeing them just leaves you feeling empty and sad. 
“Do me a favor,” the man says. “If I ever get bitten, put a bullet in my fucking brain.”
You nod. “Same,” you say.
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Man #5: 
The man who gave you the tip yesterday about using duck tape on your arms steps over to the windows to survey the situation. He already has his arms wrapped in a layer of the tape, over top of his sleeves. A few of the others notice, and begin wrapping their own limbs in tape or thick fabric, so you do the same. 
He steps closer to you and takes the roll of tape from your hand, then begins wrapping your forearm for you. 
“Thanks,” you tell him, hoping he can’t hear how nervous the growing horde outside is making you. 
He seems as calm as the more physically imposing men, despite having a more slender frame. “Our best option would be to bang on the glass and draw their attention to the front, then all of us slip out the back way,” he says. 
You glance toward the back of the store. “Should we check to see if they’ve circled around?”
He nods, and the two if you make your way back, through the storage area and to a large drop down gate. You assume trucks come in this way to unload merchandise. But it’s locked up tight and you can’t see anything on the other side. 
“There’s a window up there,” the man says, pointing. You have to use a step ladder to reach it, but you both climb up to look out. 
There aren’t nearly as many zombies roaming around behind the store, but there are definitely enough to be a problem. 
“I think we can make it through, but it’s going to be a challenge,” he tells you. 
You feel fear creeping up your spine. So far you’ve been able to evade most large groups of zombies, but with the store being surrounded, it’s looking like you’re going to have to wade into them. 
As the two of you return to the front, you feel your spirits sinking.
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Man #6:
The man with the bright smile comes up beside you as you stare out hopelessly at the zombies gathered at the windows. 
“I’ve seen bigger hordes,” he says. 
You look up at him. “You have?”
He grins. “Sure. They’re not so bad when you realize how slow and uncoordinated they are.”
You appreciate his optimism. But you realize it’s more than that. His confidence rings true, and it makes you feel a little more hopeful. 
“So you think we can get out?” you ask. 
He nods, still smiling, then gestures to where a few of the men are standing in a small circle. “They’re planning our escape right now. We’ve got some real smart guys here, so don’t worry.”
You finally return his smile. “I hope you’re right.”
“Of course I am,” he replies. 
Just then you hear something, like tinkling glass. Both you and the man look around for the source of the noise. After a few minutes, you spot a tiny crack in the glass, right where over a dozen zombies are pressing against the windows. 
“They’re breaking the glass!” you cry, backing away. 
The man calls over to his friends, “Guys, put a rush on that brilliant plan!”
They look up and rush over to check the crack.
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Man #7:
The man you met in the stock room yesterday is the first to crouch down and examine the crack in the glass. His brow is furrowed as he watches the zombies shove themselves against the window, then he turns to face the others. 
“Everyone, get whatever you need and be ready to go in ten minutes. We’ll take our chances going out the back.”
You already had your backpack ready, so you pull it onto your shoulders as the other men begin doing the same. You feel your heart racing as you prepare for the fight of your life. 
The man is securing his own pack with a strap around his waist and checking the heavy denim sleeves of the jacket he’s wearing. He seems uncomfortable in the fabric, as if it’s not something he’d normally wear, but protection is the most important thing right now. 
“What do you think our chances are?” you ask him. 
He looks around the room. “With this group? Pretty good. If we all stick to the plan,” he adds, glancing at a couple of guys in particular. Then he looks back at you. “Try to stay in the middle of us. We can protect you.”
“Thanks,” you tell him. “I guess I lucked out when I stumbled upon you guys.”
He gives you a warm smile. “I’m glad you feel that way.”
Just then, you hear glass breaking, another crack at first, and then a shattering that startles everyone in the store. Right beside you, the first zombie crashes inside, and the man grabs your arm, pulling you back behind him. 
As the zombie horde begins shambling into the store, the men around you take defensive positions and get ready to fight their way to the back.
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Tag List:
@tadabzzzbee @babysoo-meu @atomicweaselpaperapricot
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bianca-mii · 22 hours
Text
One of the most iconic kisses between our guitarists from the 2022 tour. I can't write as beautifully as @woodswallow, but I made this gifset as I thought there is a very interesting thing to point out.
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The Auslaender outro started almost as usual, with Richard feeling the music probably somewhat more.
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But this moment shows one massive difference from arguably every other Auslaender's kiss: Richard is not smiling. He's not focused on seducing Paul with that evil grin. There's no tension, no predatory stare. He is... sad? He looks Paul in the eye, and while Paul is in that playful-teasing-I'm-not-that-easy-to-get mode of his, in which he rather avoids eye contact with Richard, he must realize something is off with the lead guitarist...
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But they both go for the kiss. In the beginning, I thought maybe Richard was sad, at least partially, because during some of the 2022 shows Paul seemingly didn't feel like having that little smooch. From what I've read, Paul is very uncomfortable with PDA and, in general, tries to keep his private life as far from the public eye as possible. 2019 kisses were fun and outrageous, which Paul loves, and also had a political impact. But by the half of the 2022 tour, it was obvious nobody cared about any political impact anymore and the guitarists kissed just because they like it. Richard doesn't care if people are watching, he may even like it better that way, so perhaps he couldn't entirely understand Paul's hesitation. Also, on the previous show, still in Europe, their kiss was very quick, too quick for Richard's liking:
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He made that gesture with his mouth as if he wanted to say: "Ahh, it ended before I could even taste it!" On which Paul said something, maybe like: "I've told you already: quick pecks - for the audience, the actual kisses - only you and me, no witnesses..." And Richard was like: "Oh, okay, but a boy can dream, can't he?"
Going back to Chicago's kiss: so it's not the case that Richard is sad because he thinks Paul wants no public kisses: they go for it as usual. I also don't think he's sad because he'd prefer the kiss to be longer - that doesn't sound like an actual reason to feel sad. It has to be something else.
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Whatever it is, Richard tries to pull away first as he probably thinks the kiss will be over by that time anyway. Indeed, it's usually been (if not any other time) Paul who pulls away first; I also think Richard's hand on the back of Paul's neck used to be there for that extra control, to keep him in place just a little bit longer, but it wasn't hugely sufficient. This time though, again, Richard thinks the kiss will be over just after a moment. But what happens next? Especially from this angle, it seems very clear: Paul doesn't let go. And his reaction is really intense: he keeps his lips locked with Richard's, his right hand, put on Richard's shoulder, grabs it more firmly; you can see all his body leaning on his partner; if you look at his butt, it slightly goes up as he maybe even gets on tiptoe.
I remember reading suggestions Richard was that surprised because maybe Paul slipped him some tongue. I'd love to think that, but what I believe really happened was that Paul sucked hard on Richard's lip to keep their mouths together as Richard tried to pull away.
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This is not the best quality, but it sort of confirms that theory: you can briefly see Richard's mouth, and then how it literally gets sucked:)
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Paul pulls away when it's over but also slightly pushes Richard: "now, that should do!", but Richard, despite experiencing a massive WTF?! moment, remains sober enough to put some pressure on Paul's nape, doesn't let him go, and pulls him back close again, for a hug. He also starts to laugh so heartily that it makes my heart melt. Perhaps he's realized what face he's just made and laughs, just a little bit, at himself too. Paul, on the other hand, briefly returns the hug, but then is all like: "there, there, don't overdo it, babe." He gives Richard a few pats on the back, like the male friends with no benefits would do - he is back into his no PDA mode, and puts his right hand back on Richard's shoulder, this time trying to push him away.
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But now Richard does not have it: "nah love, not so fast, you should have expected now I need to thank you for what you've just done... *mwah*". Another kiss on the lips, brief one this time, and finally Paul can go, obviously showing to everybody: "look! Just look at this little naughty thing right there!", Richard is doing something similar for a moment, too (what a complete pair of dorks:D).
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So, I imagine Richard was so surprised because Paul not only didn't want to end the kiss quickly but literally forced it to be longer. I love this moment so much for two reasons: it totally makes sense Paul is uncomfortable with PDA, but as soon as Richard feels worse, or Paul gets sentimental himself (like by the end of tours), Paul stops thinking about any discomfort and goes for it with no hesitation, which pretty much says that comforting Richard is simply much more important for him. I think we saw it here, we saw it during Puppe 2023 or this tour after the German football team lost.
What I also more than love, is how Paul's little mouth-to-mouth treatment really brings Richard back to life and turns the night into the day for him (no wonder, who wouldn't be more than alive if they just got a kiss from Landers himself?). Richard is over the moon here, and seeing him undergo such a 180-degree mood switch is an almost otherwordly experience...
Here's the whole video cropped by me, original credit to till_lindemann_pics on ig. One of the other gifs by @davecumstaine, the other one - I can't tell, I downloaded it a long time ago and can't find it here anymore, many apologies;(
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kaivenom · 16 hours
Text
Dating Sir Crocodile HCS
A/N: this is based on a request made by an anonymous, i hope you read this. And i must admit that i got really long.
Masterlist
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Meeting
You either meet him by working for him or by being another mobster let's set the division here.
You work for him
You were selected by your habilities, he didn't care about your appearence, just your effieciency.
And you really were, that's what he liked and what made him ascend you really fast.
When you were like his second in command, you started to feel like you were overworking, same salary but much more work.
In the other hand, he started to feel the most relaxed he has been ever, your pressence was making him be better at work and all that comes with it.
You wanted a raise and he didn't give to you. He saw it as a lack of respect and you shut up, not wanting to damage the good relationship you both builded.
At the end you resigned a week after and he let you.
Spoiler, he couldn't stand it, not because him having to do the work, no, because he was alone and you weren't there with your calming pressence, the bad jokes and that good morning smile.
He lasted a couple of weeks, then he went to search you.
"So, someone can't do his job without help."
"It's not about the job."
"Then what it..." you couldn't continue because he was kissing you.
You returned, now at his second officially, no raise but unlimited access to his money.
You are another mobster
At first there was that cordial hostility between enemies that otherwise would be friends.
Both of you tried to make peace between your mobs but obviously, with your own terms.
To be more casual, you both decided to meet at dinner place.
Ussually mobs share living experiences to see if their life styles combine with their future allies, so you both would do that.
The problem was still unsolved so you needed another meeting, and then other and other, until you weren't even talking about alliances just life.
This is the point were your gangs started to see the new problem and wanted to solve it for their way.
"So, one of my seconds said that at this point if we want an alliance we should be married, crazy right?" you said flustered.
"It's not crazy, mine's said that too. We don't have to be marrid but maybe they are right and we should date."
"If dating goes wrong, we are doomed."
"Then we can't mess up, we can do a contract if that happens, if it makes you feel safer."
"Really?"
"Dating you seems like the perfect idea for me, like i don't desire to do so?" he was talking serious, he wanted to date but he was concious about it, now he had de excuse.
Dating
His love languages are gifts, anything you want then he has it the next morning on your door. And quality time: long afternoons on the office, sleepless lazy nights.
He can't do physical touch as much as he wants to thanks to his reputation and your safety, so that would be reserved to home.
The more you will have on public are cheek or forehead kisses, a small pat on your head or a little brush on the leg.
Then in the house, you won't have another sit that isn't his legs.
Big on commited men, this man has a special calendar in the office to remeber dates with you. He even has the secretary to remember him special dates if he forget due to work.
He knows he can get submerged on job so he does everything he cans to just don't dissapoint you, cause he knows you expect him to be working a lot.
Hes huge, we know that, so you will sleep on top of him or using him as a pillow and pray to not end up as the little spoon.
That doesn't happen ussually, so you don't get crushed but he will always have his arm on you (so you sleep on the side of his good arm)
If someone tries to threaten him, you are the one on lock down.
After a couple of years he will start to think about retiring and have a life with you and maybe a kid. The first thing it's difficult so he proposes to you to begin with that.
He is a master of deals and that applies to you, it's wonderful to know that he always listens to your concerns and tries to solve it or either get to a agreement.
He never reaises his voice with you and you are the only one that makes him laugh, like a real laugh, not the mafia boss grin.
NSFW
He needs to be in control always so disconecting from that in bedroom is difficult.
He tends to be dominant and give you orders (not that you complain) but on particular vulnerable days he is more able to let it go and you have the oportunity to lazily ride him with passionate kisses.
He can make you call him daddy but not sir, never that, everyone calls him that, but in bed you should never, it just clicks something on his mobster mind that he doesn't like. He is with you not in the job.
He doesn't like degradation either, maybe things like pointing your obvious need for him but not hummiliate.
I think he doesn't view sex like an everyday activity, he is a man but he is a grown one. If he gets a random boner he will try to hide it or let it happen, nothing much but... if you happen to be with a skirt or with a particular behaviour or he is specially needy for you, then he will go to catch you.
Definetily a growler and groaner, perfectly able to talk and tell you how good you make him feel and how good you are doing it. These are the times when he is the more talkative ever.
He loves to comunicate with these things cause he is a big man (you know what i mean) and he knows it so he wants to make you confortable. You both had a talk about it and you were more flustered about his serious face than to the fact that he was saying his dick will split you in half.
But things said, then he could fuck you like god, cause he knows how to do it.
He is more of a reciever, something about your pretty dollface between his legs with his dick half way into your mouth, it's so sexy.
You both even tried to take things out of the bedroom and try that famous scene were the girls suck the guy under the table on a meeting.
Spoiler: neither of you liked it so, things stayed in the bed.
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albertasunrise · 9 hours
Text
Work Wife - Two (Preview)
Masterlist
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64.media.tumblr.com
Series Masterlist - One
Wow... so what a reception this fic has received already! So happy that you all are loving it so far!
Chapter two is well under way as I had already started writing it but had decided to split what I had. Obviously needs a little more tweaking but thought you'd all like a taster of what's to come 🥰
Enjoy!
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It felt like with each interaction you shared with Simon, the less seeing Joel every day, and knowing that he didn't return your feelings, hurt you. What you didn't realise was that your budding new relationship with Simon was tearing Joel apart. Simon couldn't help but gush to the other contractors about how special you were or how amazingly things were going. How he was starting to think that you might be the one. That statement made Joel want to find a remote canyon so that he could lob Simon into it. Yet he knew he had no right to feel jealous. It's not like he'd ever had the guts to go for it. It was his own fault that he was suffering now. Yet that didn't make him hate Simon any less. What he hated more was you talking to him about the dates that his 'so-called' friend was taking you on. It was killing him. "Oh Joel, you would have loved the walk Simon and I went on over the weekend." You gushed as you sipped at your coffee "I would show you some pictures but I'm still waiting for them to come back from the developers so…" "That's fine." Joel replied, trying to keep his tone from sounding as pained as he felt. "Perhaps you could take Eliza there sometime." You continued, completely oblivious to his torment "It's so romantic and-" "Eliza and I are just casual." Joel interrupted and you couldn't help but snort. "Please." You rasped "She's practically living with you now. Fuck buddies don't spend most nights together." "We're just hanging out." "And I'm the Queen of England." You rolled your eyes and how oblivious he was to what was going on straight in front of him "If you're just looking for casual then perhaps you need to tell her that." "I did! I have…" He argued, his hip cocking to one side as he rested his on it. "Well, perhaps you need to have that conversation with her again because from an outsider's point of view. You and her seem pretty serious." Joel's stomach twisted at the thought that he was leading Eliza on. She was sweet and he liked her but he wasn't looking to settle down. Not yet. "Talk to her Joel." you said sweetly as you placed your hand on his "Don't lead her on." So talk to her he did.
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usertoxicyaoi · 1 year
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The Note Saga.
HIS MAN 2 (2023). Jun Sung + Sung Ho in Episode 5.
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crimescrimson · 5 months
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Ada Wong & Leon S. Kennedy: The History [ Resident Evil 4 (2023) ]
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lttleghost · 2 years
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a collection of Jesse "memes" I've made:
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